Isadora
by aznduddet
Summary: Isadora is sent to the House of Batiatus as a slave.She meets Spartacus and both fall hard for each other.However, everyone plans to use Isadora when her status is elevated by Ilithyia.How will the plans of others affect the forbidden relationship? SP/OC
1. Chapter 1: House of Batiatus

**A/N**: So this is my first chapter of Isadora and I really hope you like it. It takes place some time after Spartacus defeats the Shadow of Death and his wifes death. For the most part I plan on going along with the original plot, but dont be surprised if something random happens. But yeah, enjoy and please review :)

**Chapter 1: House of Batiatus**

Isadora Paccia Quintus was shoved roughly by the guards. She had no idea where she was, but only what she was doing there. The sun shine down on her brightly as she stood in a line with four other women she did not know. Her body was covered in filthy rags that hardly covered her flesh from the harsh travel she had endured. Isadora looked around the room; the ceiling was open, sunlight cascading from the heavens, she stood next to a pool filled with water and to her right was an open area covered in furniture, food, and drink that her tongue yearned to quench. The guards stood behind her and the other women, their hands firmly clutching the handle of their blades. Isadora suddenly heard voices approaching and looked across the pool only to see two men. One was old, probably in his late forties, early fifties, and was colorfully robed. The other walked with a limp and had something strapped to one of his legs. He looked like he was in his late twenties, early thirties. The men quickly approached the women and stood before them. The old one spoke first.

"You are in the House of Batiatus. I am your Dominos, I bought all of you off the slave market; it is my coin that pays for your being here, my coin that pays for the food you eat, the water you drink, the clothes that will soon be on your back. You are here to serves me and whomever I command you too. You now work for the greatest Ludus of gladiators in all of Capua, home of the infamous Spartacus, slayer of Theokoles." Batiatus stopped and looked at the women. He gestured to one of the guards. "What are their names?"

The guard pulled out a piece of parchment and read the list, reading Isadora's name last. Batiatus furrowed his brows and cringed in disgust. "Which one shares my name?" He asked the guard. The guard pointed to Isadora's back, Batiatus' eyes immediately going to her. He stepped over to her and gave her a very slow once over. Her skin was a light bronze, her eyes as dark as night, and her dark hair long and messy around her face, giving her a sexy appeal to Batiatus.

"Ashur," He said. "From whence does she come from?"

"I believe she is from Carthage; the same area as Barca." The man with the limp said.

"Another Carthaginian." Batiatus said with a smile that filled Isadora with worry. "Perhaps she will bring us as much good fortune as Barca has." He stepped back and looked at the lot. He pointed the three girls, one of them being Isadora, told them to step forward. "You three go with Ashur, the two in the back stay here." Batiatus left and Ashur stepped up with his hands clapped together.

"Aren't you three the lucky ones. Come, we shall get you ready." He quickly led them to the bathing room where they would be cleaned and dressed.

***

Spartacus sat at one of the tables with a bowl of water-downed soup in front of him. He looked over at his fellow gladiators and watched them train; wooden swords clashing together, the sound of shield hitting shield reverberating through the Ludus. The air was stifled with the scent of sweat and blood; the sun beating down on the men only enhanced the odor. Varro came and sat down across from him.

"I grow tired of this shit they give us." He said, filling his spoon with the liquid then pouring it back into the bowl with a look of disgust. Spartacus smirked and swallowed a spoonful.

"Really? I though you rather enjoyed it." There was silence between them, both looking out at the men training.

"Do you still have aspirations of leaving this place?" Varro suddenly asked. Spartacus looked at him then at the murky water that filled his bowl.

"I do not know. Eventually yes. But the world has become a foreign place to me. I do no know if I would be able to find my way back to it."

"You are Spartacus, the slayer of Theokoles. I'm sure you could conquer returning to the real world." He replied with a laugh meant to bring merriness, but instead brought grief to his friend.

"I have no reason to go beyond these walls anymore." Varro knew that he was referring to his deceased wife. He remembered watching her die in his arms, how that if it had been his own he surely would have broken down and killed himself. But Spartacus was strong, stronger than most of the men there. He also had the Gods on his side, which wasn't very bad either.

"Your freedom is reason enough." Varro said. Spartacus looked at him. "Even though your wife is gone, you still have your freedom that is worth fighting for. You have a better chance of making it out of here than anyone. And I believe the Gods would not allow such a great man to rot here until death calls."

Spartacus filled his spoon with the slop then poured it back in the bowl. "You speak the truth. I grow tired of this shit as well." Varro burst into laughter and leaned over the table, slapping his friend on the shoulder a few times. They continued eating and conversing, the shouts and bangs of training in the background, until suddenly, a loud clang erupted throughout the ludus. Heads shot up and looked at the direction that it came from. A woman entered wearing a one shouldered light blue dress. Spartacus could tell that she was very uncomfortable as the men started to approach her, whistling and making obscene comments about her. He knew that she was a slave from her apparel, but had never seen her before. He watched her as she walked by, both sharing a long glance. He looked over his shoulder her and watched her; she walk talking to Doctore.

"Varro," Spartacus said without looking at him. "Who is that?"

"I don't know. I've heard word that Dominos and Ashur went to market today and got a new batch of slaves. I thought it would have been men, but apparently it was women. Probably more he can put his disgusting cock in."

Doctore nodded his head and dismissed her. She briskly left his side and kept her head down while she walked. Spartacus's gaze was fixed on her and knew that something was going to happen. The woman started to pull the gate open and slightly jumped when it was slammed closed suddenly. Spartacus looked back to Doctore, however, he was no where to be seen. The room grew silent as one of the gladiators tried to make a move on her. The man lowered his head down to her ear and whispered something that made her push him away roughly.

"Disgusting pig." She spat at him and tried to open the gate again, however, this only urged him forward.

"You have a dirty mouth. I like that!" He picked her up roughly by the buttocks and went over to one of the tables. The other men cheered him on, knowing very well how it was going to end. He cleared off the table with a swipe of his large arm and put her down. She fought ferociously with him, more than any woman Spartacus had ever seen. He covered her mouth with one hand and crept the other up her dress; that was enough. Spartacus shot up from his seat and went to the gladiator, grabbing his shoulder and shoving him back before colliding his large fist with the gladiators face. The man fell to the ground, hitting his head on the table behind him.

"Ohh Spartacus you're no fun." One of them side with a laugh before returning to him meal. Others began laughing and returned to what they were previously doing. Spartacus turned to the woman and offered to left her off the table.

"It is not wise to come here." He said, the woman accepted his offer and he gently lifted her off the table and set her on her feet.

"I never desired to." She replied simply. She quickly adjusted her dress and shook the fear and rigidity from her. There eyes met, and at that moment, something happened between them. There was a long moment of silence and the world seemed to stop around them. The clang of the gate abruptly broke the moment and a woman popped her head in.

"Isadora come! Dominos is looking for you!" The woman had fear and urgency on her face and gestured for Isadora to come quickly.

"I am coming Cornelia." She lifted her dress and quickly left, giving a second glance at Spartacus. Spartacus stood there, digesting what just happened. He felt a hand slap down on her shoulder and looked to see Varro.

"You never cease to be the hero." He said with humorous sarcasm. He looked down at the knocked-out gladiator and smirked. "You could have been a bit more gentle."

"He is a disgusting pig." Spartacus replied.

"What?" Varro did not understand.

"She said that he was a disgusting pig. She was right."

"Do you speak of that woman you saved so gallantly?" Varro looked in the direction she went.

"Yes." Varro stood in front of his friend and crossed his arms over his chest. "Why did you look at her so?"

"I don't know what you mean?"

"Don't act like you don't know what I am talking about. You are interested in her are you not?" Spartacus thought for a moment, but couldn't come up with a significant answer, all he could think about was her face and how beautiful she looked. "Jupiter's cock." Varro said with a laugh, taking pity on his friend. "Did you at least get her name?"

"Isadora." Spartacus liked the way saying her name sounded from his lips. Her name was simple, but made his heart pound in his chest momentarily.

"Isadora?" Varro said, testing the name out almost. "I like it. It's sexy in way." He said with a grin and slapped Spartacus on the back before returning to the table.

***

"Where have you been this whole time?" Cornelia, a fellow slave of Isadora's that resided at the ludus for a few months, said. Cornelia was a few years older than Isadora, and did not have as much beauty. In this Cornelia hated and envied Isadora, even though she barely knew her. "You were only to tell Doctore he was summoned and that was all."

"I cannot be helped if animals take advantage of me in broad day light." Isadora adjusted her dress a little and continued in a brisk pace toward the room that Dominos was in. "They are much stronger than I. I could hardly defend myself."

"If not for Spartacus you surely would have been tainted by that beast." She replied.

"I fear that Dominos plans to be my first. He is unaware of purity." Isadora's expression fell at the though of loosing her virginity to a master and not her newlywed husband . . . deceased husband. Cornelia took Isadora's arm and stepped to the side, hidden by darkness.

"You must inform Dominos of this. He is not the kind of man to take a woman by force."

"But what if I do this and it only urges him further? What if I tell him of my purity and he would to take it for his own?"

"It is a risk you are going to have to take." Cornelia took her arm again and led her to Dominos.

Once they arrived to one of the bedroom chambers Dominos ordered Cornelia to leave. The room was large, but fairly empty. There was a bed on the left wall, large desk a few feet from it, and where Isadora stood there was a table with a jar of wine and two cushioned seats. Dominos leaned against the desk and looked at Isadora. He took a deep breath before speaking.

"Do you know why I have summoned you here?" He asked.

"No Dominos."

"You are a slave Isadora; meant to serve me. If I command you to do something I expect it to be done, if I ask something of you, you have the option of fulfilling my desire or not. Do you understand where I am going with this?"

Isadora was hesitant to reply. She wasn't exactly sure what he was talking about. "Yes Dominos." She said in uncertainty. Dominos wiped his hand against the desk, a cloud of dust bursting into the air and slowly falling to the ground.

"I heard word not to long ago that a gladiator laid a hand on you. Do you see this to be true?"

"Yes."

"Was it while you were informing Doctore for me?"

"Yes." She replied. Dominos sucked in a breath and shut his eyes. "It is not common for my slaves to take action toward a woman. It seems to me that you have awakened some of their cocks." He said looking at her. He tapped his foot on the ground and cursed to himself. "I also heard that Spartacus protected you?"

"Yes Dominos. They are much to strong, I could not defend myself."

"It is fine. It has been a while since they have been without women." He paused. "There is to be a celebration tonight, to congratulate the men on their victories with wine and women; I have already sent Ashur out to make the arrangements. All of the slaves are to attend except for the personal ones. Even though you are not my personal slave you are not to attend the celebrations. You will not have your well being put in jeopardy again."

"Dominos?"

"I am aware of your virginity." He said. Isadora understood and thought of what Cornelia said. "A ludus is the worse place to be a virgin. Most men would kill to fuck a virgin, and many have died because of it."

"Yes Dominos. I understand."

He took a deep breath. "Good." He pointed to the jar on the table. "That is empty. Bring me another one filled with wine." Isadora bowed her head in gratitude and grabbed the jar before exiting.

***

Isadora was hesitant to go down the steps where the gladiators slept. The wine shelf was right next to the steps, the gate being at her back. Taking a deep breath she quickly went down the steps and placed the empty jar next to the pile of empty ones and searched for a new one that was completely filled. She pulled one out and shook it. The liquid sloshed around a lot, hinting that it was almost gone. She continued doing so until she found one that was almost completely full. She unlatched the lid and pulled it open, peering inside. She closed the lid again, satisfied with the one she found and was about to go back up the stairs when someone suddenly called her.

"Isadora." She looked over her shoulder hesitantly, clutching the jar close to her chest. She could not see the man who spoke her name; his face hidden in the shadows. She stepped closer and was surprised to see Spartacus. She looked around, searching for guards or any of the other men on the other side of the gate.

"Is it you that spoke my name?" She asked.

"Yes. And a beautiful name it is." Spartacus clutched the gate bars.

"I have heard much about you. But have yet to see you in the arena." She said, breaking the silence.

"Are you not from Capua?"

"No. Carthage."

"Then what are you doing here?" He asked. Isadora's expression fell and her eyes met the floor.

"It is a long and sad story."

"As is everyone's that comes to this place." There eyes met again. Isadora was tempted to step closer to the gate, to see him as a whole. At that moment Spartacus wanted her to; he wished that the gate was not there so that he could feel her skin against his, and gaze upon her completely without restraint.

"Dominos waits for me." Isadora said, thinking it would explain everything.

"Let him wait a moment longer." Isadora set the jar down on the ground and stepped closer to the gate and clutched it as Spartacus did.

"What was your reason for saying my name?" They stood very close together, looking deep into each others eyes. "You must have a reason for wanting my attention."

"To see your face and hear your voice again."

"Are you to make this a common thing?" Isadora searched his eyes for something, but did not know what she was searching for.

"If I must."

"What is your intent Spartacus? Do you wish me to pay you a debt because you saved me?"

"I only desire to know the girl that fights against gladiators." He said.

"Any other would do the same."

"No they would not. They would let them have their way or do so willingly. You only fight a gladiator if you want to die."

"Then what does that make you?" There was a long moment of silence. Spartacus did not know what to say. He was interested in the woman that defended herself against animals that could easily kill her. Her beauty also captivated him and the thought of her had wandered his mind since earlier that day.

"A fool." He replied.

"A fool you are Spartacus. But a brave one that yet lives to see another day."

His heart pounded in his chest at the sight of her, and her voice made him want to be closer to her. Spartacus could not command these sudden feelings and this awakening inside him to subside, he could only act on impulse. And at that moment, his impulse was to press his lips against hers.

Without thinking, Spartacus urged himself forward and brought his lips to Isadora's. His lips grazed against hers, feeling their warmth and tenderness immediately. Isadora stepped back and looked at him before it could go any further.

"You must forgive me." He said with heavy breath. "I only act on impulse." He leaned his forehead against that bars and listened as Isadora grabbed the jar and slowly walked back up the stairs to Dominos.


	2. Chapter 2: Slave

**A/N:** I would like to thank everyone that reviewed. I really appreciate it and it let me know that the readers want me to continue, so I will. :) I hope you enjoy the chapter and please continue reviewing. Thank you. - Kam

**Chapter 2: Slave**

Spartacus sat in his room, thinking of Isadora's lips all too briefly pressed against his. He imagined her face in front of him, slightly obscured by the damned bars that detained him. How could such a beautify come to be? He started to wonder how she had come to be a slave for Dominos and thought about what tragic incident could have happened to forsake such a beauty to a world of piss and shit. He laid down on the bed and locked his fingers under his head, imagining her. Isadora had awakened something inside of Spartacus and neither was sure of what it was.

Out of the corner of his ear he could hear shouts of laughter and joy outside of his room. The celebrations were beginning and soon drinking, sex, gambling, and fighting would ensue. However, even in the wake of a new and joyous evening all Spartacus could think about was Isadora. But, for a moment, his mind was torn from his thoughts of her when someone burst through his door and stumbled in. It was Varro, which was no surprise to him.

"Celebrations are beginning and yet you lie on your cot as a fat cat would! What is the meaning of this?" Varro closed the door and sat at the end of the bed. Spartacus sat up and looked at his friend; he could smell wine on his breath.

"I have no desire to partake in the celebrations."

"You are distracted. I see it in your eyes. What is it that fills your thoughts enough that you cannot enjoy the merriment?" Varro asked. When Spartacus looked off into the distance Varro chuckled in realization. "Ahh. The question is not what, but who. Is Isadora the object of your distraction?

"I saw her this evening." Spartacus looked at Varro.

"How did this come to be?" Varro gave Spartacus his full attention out of curiosity and pity.

"She came to fetch wine for Dominos and I saw her."

"And that is all? You did not share words . . . or actions?" He asked with a smirk. Varro liked where the situation was going. He had known Spartacus since their first day at the ludus and was the only friend he actually had in the damned place. Varro understood that he had his honor and pride, as did everyone (some more than others), which he planned to stay intact once he left, however, it had been long since a . . . suitable distraction came to his dear friend.

"We did share words, only for a moment. But . . . I believe I may have dishonored her." Spartacus replayed the kiss in his mind and silently cursed himself for it. He was afraid that he scared her off, since she did not say anything after his apology.

"Dishonored her? In what way?" Spartacus was hesitant to tell him, but could not find it in himself to hide it from him.

"After we spoke . . . our lips touched briefly." Varro burst in laugh after the last word exited his friends mouth. He did not mean to insult him by laughing, but could not help himself.

"Your lips touched briefly?" He said between fits of laughter. "Who was the one that caused such an action?"

"I."

"You kissed Isadora and you believe this dishonored her? Spartacus you may be the champion of Capua, but apparently that is all. Your mind fills with thoughts of a fleeting kiss with a woman you just met while other women's thighs moisten at the mere sight of you. How has this come to be?" He said in a joyous laughter.

"I do not desire other women." He said in his defense.

"You desire her now? You hardly know her yet she already has your cock in her grasp." Varro clenched his fist in front of his friends face, emphasizing the point and shook his head. "You will be glad to hear the news I have brought you then." He said with a grin.

"What news?"

"The slaves are to attend the celebrations." Spartacus cocked a brow. "If you go most likely Isadora will be there, you may have another chance yet." Varro stood up. "And if you did dishonor her then you will he able to give her a proper apology."

***

After delivering the wine to Dominos, Isadora was given orders to tend to his wife: Domina. She never met the Domina before, but heard much about her from the other servants. She was said to be ruthless and quick to remind you of your place; Isadora was a little intimidated. She was escorted by one of the other slaves to where Domina was and was left alone upon arrival. Isadora was in the same room she had seen when she first arrived, the one next to the pool and saw her Domina, her back facing Isadora, for the first time.

"What is your name slave?" Domina asked without looking back at her.

"Isadora Madam."

"Well Isadora. Help me get dressed. We have guests arriving soon." Isadora immediately went over and helped Domina. She worked with one other slave, whom she had never seen before. She believed a proper introduction would be in order at some point, but for the time being they worked without words. Isadora had never disrobed another woman and a faint shade of red blossomed on her cheeks from the sheer embarrassment and nervousness she was enduring. However, she could not help but look at her Domina's skin. It was as white as milk and unblemished, her breasts were very large, larger than Isadora and her red hair cascaded down her back like silk. She started to wonder if that is what she would look like when she got older: perfect hair, fair skin, and other things she wished to improve about herself even though many spoke otherwise and said she was absolutely perfect the way she was, but she never believed that.

They dressed her in a light green garment that looked just as elegant as the one she had just been wearing. The straps hugged the sides of her shoulders and created a semi-circle around her breasts, showing the part between them and a little bit of flesh. It hugged her curves and grazed the ground as she walked. For a moment Isadora envied her Domina; she believed she would never have such a successful or rich life, but in the same moment she hated her. It did not take much for Isadora to remember she was a slave, taken from her homeland of Carthage to be unprotected and treated as a whore, which she was far from. Domina dismissed her, saying she no longer required her services . Now Isadora did not know what to do. She started to wonder what the slaves did when they were not given orders, did they simply do nothing until they were told to do something? Or did they converse with other slaves? She wasn't sure, but decided to go for the second. However, it did not take long for another slave that was bored to find her.

"Isadora." Isadora looked to see Cornelia standing before her. The walked and spoke at the same time to no where in particular. "Are you not tending to Domina?"

"No. Dominos ordered me to but when she no longer required my services she told me to take my leave."

"I see. Are you attending the celebration for the gladiators then?" Cornelia asked with a smile.

"Unfortunately no. Dominos told me not to since he heard about the incident from this afternoon."

"Well that's a pity. You can still go though, Dominos and Domina are having guests very soon, I am sure he will be far too occupied to have any concern for you."

"I believe that to be true, however, if he ever found out that I attended he would most surely punish me." Isadora had growing concern over that matter. She wanted to go, but was afraid of what would happen if Dominos found out. He was aware of her virginity and that made her worry that he would take it if he discovered her disobedience.

"The gods themselves would have to whisper it into his ear." Cornelia took both of her hands in Isadora's. "No one will care of your presence. But if you are so worried than we will simply have you wear a veil, if that would make you feel more comfortable."

"I do not know Cornelia. The repercussions can be very costly on my part."

"Isadora, you need not be so apprehensive. All will be fine, wear a veil and no one will see your face. How can word get to Dominos of your disobedience if no one can recognize you?" Isadora had to admit that Cornelia definitely had a gift of cajoling people. But she did speak to truth; if no one could see her face than word could not get to Dominos. Besides, she had nothing better to do and her services would not be required for hours until the guests left. Isadora looked at the ground, past her feet, as if she could see through the marble floor into the ludus underground. She squeezed Cornelia's hand and agreed to go. Cornelia smiled in joy and grabbed a piece of cloth from somewhere in her dress and intricately wrapped it around Isadora, covering her nose to her chin and leaving only her eyes unmasked. Cornelia stepped back and looked at her.

"You look like a gypsy." She said pleased. They quickly departed for the ludus, stepping briskly down the steps and passed two guards before passing through the gate where the celebrations was to be had.

***

The chamber was filled with the sound that disturbed Spartacus. It was not a glorious sight but an animalistic one. Gladiators fucked whores and servants on the walls, floors, and table tops, they drank jug after jug, filling their cups continuously, shouts of pleasure and laughter, loss and victory encased the room as dice drummed across the tables and coin was thrown. Spartacus had never seen such a sight before, it was disturbing yet joyous at the same time. He was glad to see his fellow gladiators enjoying themselves while they could, knowing very well that the following morning they would resume the brutal and harsh training that Doctore would put them through.

He watched Varro at one of the gambling tables. He could tell that his friend was tempted to play the game of dice and bones, but stayed in the side and cheered for the victor and laughed at the loser. Spartacus feared for Varro: he would gamble away his coin to make time go by while Spartacus would watch him win and lose. He was afraid that it would become a common thing and that eventually Varro would be unable to tare the die away from his hand. Spartacus went over to the table and stood next to him.

"We celebrate and yet you do not play?" He asked.

"No. I have no coin with me and am not in the mood."

"But you enjoy watching others."

"I enjoy watching the reactions of the pompous bastards that gamble so free willingly." He replied with a laugh. "Have you seen her yet?" He looked at Spartacus and grinned.

"No, I have not."

"Well you should enjoy yourself until she arrives. Have some wine or something." Varro grabbed a cup next to him and handed it out for Spartacus. He looked at the cup then at Varro. "It won't kill you to have one cup." Varro pushed. Spartacus rolled his eyes and took it from him, drinking it down in one go. The wine moved smoothly down his throat and a few drops spilled from the corners of his mouth down to his chin and slid down to his chest. Spartacus wiped his mouth and grinned. Even though he had never been much of a wine drinker he liked it. He gave the cup back to Varro, whom pushed it back at him. "A second cup won't kill you either." He grinned. Varro grabbed a jug from a table behind him and filled the cup again.

"Then I assume a third surely will." Spartacus replied before finishing the second cup. Varro slapped him on the back with laughter and took the cup from him.

"Yes, the third will surely mean your demise!"

***

Isadora was taken aback by the festivities. It had not been what she expected. The clabber of noise rang her ears and she soon regretted going with Cornelia, whom quickly left her side as soon as they entered the chamber. Isadora was alone and stood at the entrance, observing everything and everyone with wide eyes of fear and excitement. She knew she was putting herself in great danger by coming, not just because of Dominos, but the sight of horny men ravaging women. She could finally see why Dominos would not want her to attend such a thing.

Isadora pulled the veil higher on the bridge of her nose, fearing that anyone would recognize, especially the brute from earlier. She was tempted to walk around and go to the gambling table, however, when she saw one of the men fucking a woman and playing at the same time she decided not to. Isadora knew she did not belong there and quickly turned on her heel, exiting the chamber and making her way to the gate. She struggled to remember what turns she had to make through the maze of cells and got confused. She looked around, thinking she would recognize something she had seen on her way to the celebration, but everything looked the same. She became frustrated almost instantly and stood against a wall for a moment to collect herself. To her surprise she soon realized she was not the only one wandering through the maze.

Isadora looked around a corner and saw a body immerge. She immediately recognized the person, but wondered if he recognized her. She adjusted the veil as he approached her and looked down once he stopped in front of her. For some reason Spartacus looked different in front of her. There was no gate to separate them so she could see his features very clearly. Her eyes wandered over his body, imagining how his muscles would feel under the fingertips. She continued to look down, even when he lifted her chin up to face him.

"Isadora." He said her name differently now, not to much to get her attention but almost as if he were caressing her by saying the name. Her heart pounded in her chest and her cheeks flushed under the veil.

"Yes?" She could not find her voice, it came out as a whisper.

"I was hoping it was you. I could recognize those eyes anywhere." Isadora finally met his eyes and was warmed from the inside out with a desire she struggled to hide. The exact same could be said for Spartacus. When he saw her at the entrance of the chamber the same feeling washed over him, however, at the sight of her departing the same desire was replaced with despair and he quickly pursued her. "Why do you hide your face?" The rubbed a piece of the fabric between his forefinger and his thumb.

"Dominos forbade me to come here." She whispered. Spartacus unwrapped the veil carefully and pulled it from her face. To Spartacus she looked different as well. He could see her completely now, without the gate obscuring his view of her. He could see the shape of her body, the curves of the waist and hips, her smooth skin and toned arms. The beauty of her face only accented the beauty of her body. He believed that Venus truly blessed this woman with a beauty that could entrance any man.

"Will on my behalf, I am glad you did not heed his words." There was a long moment of silence between them and Spartacus took this as the time to properly apologize for his actions. He handed her the veil. "My actions earlier this evening, if I dishonored or disrespected you in anyway I deeply and sincerely apologize. I acted on impulse and did not act as myself. If I-"

"You do not need to apologize." Isadora interrupted.

"Surely I must for insulting you"

"You did not insult me Spartacus." She clutched the veil in her hand.

"Then what was your reason for leaving with such urgency? Was it not satisfactory?" He asked confused.

"It is not that."

"Then what is it?" Spartacus stepped closer, causing Isadora to seek deeper into the wall. There was only one reason why she left, but she was not sure whether or not she should tell him. In truth she wanted to continue the kiss with Spartacus, even though it was very brief she still felt the imprint of his lips against her many hours after. She chewed the inside of her cheek.

"I was surprised." She said honestly. "I was shocked and did not know how to react." Isadora looked down in embarrassment.

"I apologize. I did not mean to -"

"Stop apologizing. You did nothing wrong." Her head still hung low as she bit her bottom lip. Spartacus thought for a moment. The entire time he believed he had done something wrong when in reality she had only been surprised by his actions. He stifled a laugh and looked at her. She was embarrassed which told him she was truly innocent. "Spartacus, what is the meaning of all this?" She asked suddenly.

"The meaning of what?"

"This!" She gestured to him then to herself as she met his eyes. "What are we? We hardly know each other and yet we speak in whispers of fear that others may hear our words that have no meaning. What are your intentions?"

"I only wish to know you Isadora. And I have no intention of using you or bringing any harm to you. As to your first question I do not know what we are, but I hope in the future that we will become something more. Something worth speaking in whispers for."

Isadora shoved him back and cursed herself for allowing such a thing to happen. "Even the walls can hear whispers. It does not take much for word to get to Dominos of us." She hissed.

"Dominos? He is your reason for concern?" Spartacus's face contorted into a mixed expression of frustration, perplexity, and disbelief.

"He is very protective of me Spartacus. That was established when he told me not to attend the celebrations. I will not have myself marred by his hand because of your inability to keep your cock on a leash!"

"My cock needs no leash to control itself!" Spartacus struggled to control the tone of his voice, but it was very obvious that it was much more harsh and a little more loud. "You mistake me. I had no desire to lie with you, only to know you better. If Dominos is that much of a concern to you then we shall discontinue these charades."

"I believe that is a wise decision. Now you must excuse me, I must leave before Dominos suspects anything." Isadora turned on her heel and proceeded toward the gate.

"I assume you will need a guide then!" Spartacus yelled before she turned a corner. She looked at him out of perplexity and furrowed her brows. Spartacus walked to her. "You do not know your way through these halls like I. Without my guidance you will become lost in the maze." He took her hand before she could object and led her down a different hall. Much was going through both of their minds while Spartacus led her back to the gate. While he gently held her hand in his he could not help but feel the smoothness of her hand and realize how much smaller it was compared to his. Her scent of earth and vanilla masked the smell of sweat and blood in the halls which only made him want to hold her close and take the refreshing scent for himself. His hand lightly squeezed hers and he looked down at her from the corner of his eye. Her chest rose and fell as she breathed, her long dark lashes grazed her skin as she blinked, her partially exposed back and shoulders glistened in the light; all of these minor details he noticed became seared into his memory along with the image of her and the feel of her lips. At the sudden reminder he could still feel the imprint of her lips pressed against his and struggled to keep from pressing his fingers against his lips. Instead he licked them, trying to push the sensation to the far corners of the mind where it would be locked away behind chains and shackles to never be opened away.

The same could partially be said for Isadora. Her breaths were deep as she tried to control herself from being too aware of his presence. The touch of his hand felt good against hers, it was rough and large, like a mans hand should be, but also soft and smooth like a lovers. She immediately pushed the thought away, but continued to dwell on it. Thinking of Spartacus as a lover was, what she assumed, many women did. He was the champion of Capua and was given glory, coin, and women for it. She remembered the feel of Spartacus's chest against her hands when she pushed him away: it was hard, but soft, toned and chiseled. She sneaked a glance at him then quickly looked away. Isadora thought about it much more. Spartacus was very handsome, almost beautiful. His piercing blue eyes that forever seemed to be watching her and his gentle touch that made her want to move closer to him made her see why so many women desired him. But this did not sit well with Isadora. If she saw him as other women did, did that make her a no better than them, let alone a whore? The though crossed her mind countless times, wondering if desiring Spartacus made her no better than the whores the threw the dresses off and screamed his name in the arena. She pushed the thought away as they approached the gate.

Isadora released his hand and gave her gratitude before continuing down the hall without Spartacus. They gate was some ways away, she had to go down a hall and make a right and there it would be; at the moment they were completely out of view from the guards or anyone else since the others were celebrating. Before Isadora could turn the corner she felt a hand on her shoulder and was turned around.

"Wait a moment." Spartacus said.

"Your reason? I am nearly at the gate."

"To only spend more time with you."

"Do not do this Spartacus. Dominos awaits." Isadora turned around and was once again about to make the turn when she was pulled back and thrust into a wall. Before she could speak she felt feverish lips pressed against hers with a strong urgency and desire she had never experienced before. Spartacus snaked one of his hands around her neck and the other grasped her waist, the fabric of the dress scrunched in his hand, before pressing himself closer to her. Her hands slid down his chest, feeling his muscles moving under her fingers and slightly moaned, allowing Spartacus to diligently and quickly slip his tongue in. The kiss deepened, both moaning into it as he moved the hand on her waist to the back of her thigh and hitched it onto his waist. Spartacus relished the feel of her body against his and her scent filling his nostrils while he savored the passionate kiss that he did not desire to end. The kiss slowed and soon Spartacus was leaving small and sweet kisses against her lips. Isadora kissed him one last time, removing herself from him and replacing the veil on her face again. She looked at Spartacus but could not find the words to speak or strength in her limbs to kiss him again or do anything to show her gratitude. Instead she quickly turned the corner; Spartacus listened to the gate open and then close seconds later.

At that moment he did not hesitate to bring his fingers to his lips. He kissed Isadora the way he had always intended to and grinned at the complete and utter satisfaction he was feeling. He hoped to do it again, very soon, but with much caution.

***

Isadora grabbed a jar of wine and removed the veil and tucked it in her dress as she went up the steps. She was immediately pulled to the side and gasped when she saw one of the other slaves with a look of urgency and fear.

"Isadora where have you been? Dominos has been asking for you!" The slave took Isadora's hand and quickly led her to the room where Dominos and Domina were with their guests. "We must make hast." Said the slave. "Dominos' patients has grown thin." Isadora clutched the jar close to the chest so that it wouldn't drop is they broke into a sprint and slowed as they reached the room. The slave left her and Isadora continued to the brightly lit room where laughter and conversation could be heard. Isadora entered and her masters' eyes immediately fixed on her. He gestured for her to come to him and she set the jar on a near by table. His anger was plainly seen but quickly disappeared as she stepped beside him.

"So this is your latest slave Batiatus? I was wondering when we would meet the beauty that you spoke so highly of all evening." Said a man that was slightly larger than most and had no hair on his head. There was a group of men and women surrounding them; Isadora looked at her master then back at the guests.

"Yes, well as you know I only allow the best to serve in my ludus."

"The same could not be said about others." Coaxed one of the women.

"From whence has this siren come from?" A man with white hair slicked back came over and gave Isadora a very slow once over.

"Solonius. How fortunate for you to join us, I heard word that you were not to attend." Batiatus said.

"Yes. However, I am here now and that is all that matters." For some reason Isadora could feel the tension between them as a growing silence encased the group. She looked from the man to her master then back to the man. "You still have not informed of whence she has come from?"

"How improper of me. Carthage is her territory."

"Carthage?" Said a guest. "I thought it was destroyed?"

"It is. A group of Roman soldiers were passing through the area and found a few people there, still reluctant to leave even though there was nothing but rubble and shit." Batiatus grinned as laughter surrounded him. He took a sip from his wine and looked at Isadora from the corner of his eye.

"What is her name?" Asked Solonius. Batiatus nudged her in the back, giving her permission to speak.

"Isadora."

"Isadora? As beautiful as the woman herself. Batiatus it would seem that you have found a diamond in the rough."

"Hardly." Laughed one of the women. She stepped over to Isadora and took a strand of hair between her fingers and twirled it nonchalantly. "After all she still is a slave." She grinned. "I grow tired of these festivities." The woman handed Isadora her glass of wine. "I will take my leave now. Batiatus thank you for the . . . entertaining evening."

***

"Lucretia, what is going on over there?" Ilithyia pointed in the direction of Batiatus out of curiosity.

"Nothing Ilithyia. My husband is showing off his new slave." She replied nonchalantly.

"Really? You have new slaves?" She said out of excitement. She leaned over the couch and looked at the slave that was causing such a spectacle.

"Only house slaves. They are not of any importance."

"I would beg to differ. See how good Solonius gawks at the woman. He is practically drooling over her." She took a sip of her wine. "The men gaze upon her like some rare treasure while the women look upon with complete disgust!" She laughed. "I have never seen people of status react so violently to a person, let alone a slave! I must meet this woman that causes men to act like trained dogs and women fill with hatred." She took another sip of her wine and set it down on a table without any regard of Lucretia. Ilithyia carelessly went over to Batiatus and the group of people around him and slowly approached the slave. She moved around her as she looked at the slave and could plainly see why she was causing such an upheaval. Her looks were not those of an ordinary slave, she was much to beautiful and elegant for the title, which she could tell just by the way she carried herself: shoulders back, spine erect, neck elongated, hands placed in front of her, head turning only slightly to see the people that were not in her peripheral vision. Ilithyia sucked her teeth in pity, wondering how such a girl could ever land in such a destitute position. "Batiatus." She exclaimed, getting his attention after acutely analyzing the slave. "I could not help but notice the audience that has accumulated in front of you. What is the cause?"

"Ilithyia." He faintly smiled. "These good people have noted the arrival of a new slave I purchased from market earlier today."

"Really? And what are we to call your slave?"

"Isadora." Solonius answered. "The name of a woman from Carthage that was taken by a group of Roman soldiers about a month ago."

"Carthage?" She grinned. "How interesting since everyone was believed to be dead when the city was destroyed. She will most surely be a asset to you Batiatus, in more ways than one I hope."

"Yes I believe so as well. But it appears that her presence has awakened some of my gladiators cocks!" He laughed.

"How so?" Solonius asked.

"Yes. Please, do tell." Ilithyia added.

"Earlier this afternoon she ran an errand for me at the ludus below. She was attacked by one of my gladiators."

"How unfortunate." Solonius looked at Isadora. "Such a thing would never have occurred in my ludus."

"Unfortunate indeed. But yet here she stands before us?" Ilithyia frowned.

"With Spartacus to thank for that. She was not harmed because his hand fell upon her offender." Batiatus added.

"Spartacus?" She replied in disgust. "Spartacus . . . protected her from the animal?"

"Of course. Spartacus is the champion of Capua, the bringer of rain, the slayer of Theokoles. Nothing less would be expected of such a man that brings such honor and glory to this ludus."

"It would appear so." She gave Isadora a once-over, seeing her in a different light. Ilithyia hated Spartacus with an intense passion. To think that Isadora, the beautiful and rare slave, had been saved because of his hand, her impression of her dropped tremendously. "Where is Spartacus?"

"He is in the ludus below, celebrating with the his fellow gladiators."

"You should bring him up Batiatus." Solonius glanced from Isadora to his competitor. "I wish to see the man that saved this woman from anguish." The group nodded their head in agreement and spoke out in the desire to see Spartacus.

"As do I." Ilithyia lied. She did not want to seem like the odd-ball in the crowed, and decided to go along with it. However, she desperately hoped that Batiatus would not bring the Thracian.

"No, no, no, I could not." He smiled. "Spartacus is enjoying his celebrations, I shall let him continue until late into the evening. It has been well deserved of him." The crowed agreed with him and shared their own spectacles of watching Spartacus in the arena.

"Yes. The Thracian has worked very hard to get where he is." Ilithyia said. "Excuse me. My tongue is dry and I require wine."

"Allow Isadora to get it." Batiatus slightly pushed Isadora off and she went to go get the wine.


	3. Chapter 3: Ashur

**A/N:** Hello everyone. I am so sorry that it took so long for this one to come out, I was having serious writers block and I ended up writing this chapter 3 times haha. But I would like to thank everyone that reviewed. I really appreciate it and all I ask is that you continue to do so because it really motivates me to continue at times when i feel like it is a complete waste of time. So thanks again and I hope you enjoy this one.

**Chapter 3: Ashur**

For days Isadora could feel his lingering gaze. At times her breath would hitch in her throat when she was alone, hearing light sounds of his presence, but never being a hundred percent sure it was him. Of course she couldn't avoid him. Batiatus appointed her as his personal slave, working alongside with his right hand man Ashur. She was always at her masters side and frequently felt the low tug of Ashur's eyes on her before diverting back to Batiatus. Isadora did now know him that well, but saw what he was capable of doing. She had witnessed his trickery and deception first hand, on countless occasions in the market when she was sent to complete errands and inside the ludus, playing the gladiators. She knew she would have to be very cautious around him and mined her words so that nothing incriminating would slip out.

At the moment she tended to Batiatus, giving him a shoulder massage. He sat on one of the long couches, Isadora working gently, sitting behind him with her legs folded over the other to the side. He claimed to be sore from working so hard, from what work Isadora was unaware of, but knew that it was more of the mental work than actual labor. Her fingers pressed deep into his muscles, receiving a few groan of pain and pleasure from the release. She continued as Ashur approached, his eyes flashing with light momentarily.

"Dominus." He said. Bowing his head slightly.

"Speak your purpose and leave." Batiatus replied somewhat harshly and waved his hand.

"A thought crossed my mind only a moment ago about the whores you sent to the Pits."

"What of them?" Batiatus closed his eyes and rolled his head back.

"It seems that some have been injured and customers are refusing to pay for their services."

"Well then we shall get new ones. Do not bother me with these trifles."

"Yes, but Dominus, a majority of the denarii won through Spartacus's success against Theokoles has greatly diminished. I am afraid that spending money on such 'trifles' would serve no benefit to us." Ashur clasped his hands together in front of him. Batiatus sat up strait and told Isadora to stop, patting her hand before standing up.

"How many do we have down there?" He asked.

"Five. Two appear to be in good condition but the other three, not so much."

"Send Medicus to treat them and that will be the end of it." Isadora followed Batiatus as he exited the room towards the balcony, glancing at Ashur while she passed.

"Dominus." He called as they continued. He quickly returned to his masters side and smiled, which was cunning and sweet, but very intimidating. "Dominus. Might I suggest sending a woman with Medicus." He said once they were on the balcony.

"To what purpose?" Batiatus demanded in fury.

"To ease their minds of course." Isadora looked down at the square, her eyes scanning the area before landing on Spartacus. He thrust forward with a powerful blow to the gut of his partner, sending him to the ground. His eyes wandered around the square, looking at his peers before slowly gazing up to see Isadora. Their eyes were locked and all thoughts banished from their minds, except for the kiss. The kiss so vividly remembered by both that Isadora was tempted to touch her lips but hesitantly did so. His eyes gleamed with gratification and a gentle smirk, that could have melted her then and there, appeared on his lips. Suddenly she was dragged to reality when Batiatus called her name.

"Dominus." She said suddenly alert.

"Isadora. You are to go to the Pits with Ashur, to aid with the women."

"Yes Dominus." Batiatus turned to Ashur.

"Ashur, bring her back unharmed. Or else it will be you that will need Medicus."

***

Spartacus watched with increasing angst as Ashur wrapped his arm around Isadora's shoulder, grinning and leading her away. Batiatus leaned over the banister for a moment, watching his slaves hard at work, and turned away, disappearing behind translucent curtains. Spartacus let out a deep breath and left the square towards the table, however, he was unable to sit or stand as frustration and worry filled his thoughts. He was infuriated at the sight of Ashur laying a hand on Isadora, and after days without even a mere glimpse at her. He could feel in his gut that something was going to happen-what, when, and where, he wasn't sure, but he knew something nonetheless. Spartacus inhaled sharply and held his breath briefly before exhaling, relaxing his tense muscles that contracted at the sight he witnessed moments ago.

"What troubles you?" Varro approached him with a concerned look and set his fake sword on one of the tables. He crossed his arms over his chest. Spartacus did not know what to say; rather, how to describe what he had just seen and how it made him feel. His thoughts and emotions were jumbled together in a very small basket that threatened to spill over at any given second.

"I saw her." He said plainly.

"And this troubles you?' Varro was confused.

"Yes and no. Ashur was with her, on the balcony with Batiatus. He touched her affectionately." Spartacus hissed the words outt, the video of the incident playing in his mind as he spoke. "And now she is alone with him somewhere. His tainted hand still resting upon her innocent flesh with a hidden desire to linger in distant places."

"Nothing will happen Spartacus." Varro reassured him. "Batiatus is fond of your friend. He would never allow anything to happen to her." His voice fell to a whisper. "And he would never allow such a man as Ashur who wipes the sweat of his brow with the hidden blood of his victims to have any relation with Isadora. This I am certain of."

"She is always at his side." Spartacus pushed. "As is Ashur. I can see it in his eyes that he shows interest in her. If she is aware of this is unknown to me."

Varro leaned closer to his friend, his voice decreasing to a whisper. "If you are true to your cause than there is no need for your worry. Act with purpose and tell her with words, not actions, of your affections for her. Her gaze will not wander if you take heed in my words."

"It is not her gaze that I am worried about."

***

Isadora was nervous. She had no idea what the Pits was, but knew by the name alone that it was an unpleasant place. She stayed close to Ashur as they approached the foreboding place her hand attached to his arm, her body pressed close against him. Ashur stole glances at her from the corner of his eye, grinning faintly. He had grown very fond of Isadora, his gaze lingering here and there at her, that being all he could risk. Her beauty entranced him just like the other men, except it was far more worse since he could be much closer to her than the others. He took pleasure from the touch of her soft skin pressed against his, her innocence and unfamiliarity of this new world making her a delicate treat that was to be handled with the utmost care and tenderness. He placed his hand on hers, carefully guiding her down the stairs as they entered the Pits, an intense brouhaha encasing their ears.

At the sight of the crowded room, men and women shouting, monsters fighting with unimaginable weapons, blood, shit, piss, and Jupiter only knew what else on the floor. Isadora, who was already tense and off balance, became even more tense-her muscles contracting in her limbs-and distraught. Ashur felt her grip tighten on his arm and took this as an opportune moment. The arm she clung to released her and gently found it's way to her tiny waist. She looked at him in surprise, but he gave her a smile that eased her nerves a little-only a little.

"What is our meaning for being here again?" She asked, her body pressing closer against his as a woman ran past, a man briskly following behind. She looked over her shoulder at them then at Ashur.

"Some of the women here are injured, so we are to aid Medicus in fixing them up a bit."

"Why must I participate?"

"To ease their minds." The conversation came to an abrupt halt when Isadora did not reply. Ashur's hand tightened around her waist, drawing her closer, however, she didn't seem to notice. He decided to start another conversation, since they were approaching Medicus soon. "I did not see you at the celebrations?" He looked at her.

"Dominus forbade me to attend." She glanced at him from the corner of her eye.

"How unfortunate. I was back and forth the entire evening. Were you with Dominus then?"

"For a moment. I was very busy."

"I noticed." Isadora looked at him, there eyes meeting. "I saw you running back and forth between Dominos and tending to other matters when I was with him occasionally. He spoke with a bold tongue of you to his guests. I to agreed with him when he acknowledged your beauty as a rare and unique one that should be kept to oneself." He smirked.

"Oneself?"

"Contained in the ludus of course. If you went beyond the ludus walls into the city, you would be over run with pathetic suitors who's only goal is to take your beauty for themselves, forever tainting you. We protect you from such travesties."

"I need no protection." Isadora replied sternly, her lips fixing into a fine line.

"Yes, as proven the day you first arrived." There eyes met again. "I saw what happened in the square." Ashur grinned. "One of the men forced himself on you. If not for Spartacus you would most surely not be standing before me." For the briefest moment they stopped moving, simply looking at each other and being in each others presence. Something about Ashur captured Isadora in the small universe she stood in, his arm still around her waist, his face carefully and slowly moving closer to hers. Her heart beat feverishly in her chest and her throat dried. He combed his fingers through her hair gently, his eyes locked on hers. "You really are a rare and unique beauty." He whispered. His lips, faintly pressed against hers, pulled back as he took her hand in his and continued leading her to Medicus. Isadora released a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding the entire time and willed her paralyzed legs to move.

***

Ilithyia grabbed the glass of wine from one of the servants and greedily brought it to her lips. She was overly parched for some odd reason and was quick to quench her thirst. After almost finishing it, she ran in forefinger of the rim of the glass. She was amazed at how much fortune the house of Batiatus had gained, even though, to her distain, it was all due to Spartacus' unwillingness to die. The corner of her lip turned into a frown. She watched Lucretia as she looked at a few gowns she was considering to purchase. Ilithyia was curious. About what she didn't know exactly, but did find the atmosphere a little unsettling and off balance compared to her prior visits. She wondered if the new aura that wavered in the halls had anything to do with Isadora. Not only that, but other thoughts had crossed her mind over the innocent and enchanting slave. She often pondered about the slaves past: wondering why she stayed in Carthage, how she came into the world, who had she been before the beautiful city was destroyed, and if she had a lover or someone of much importance to her. Ilithyia loved surrounding herself with beautiful people, and Isadora was a pure beauty, which she found very interesting and undeniably alluring. She finished the rest of her wine before broaching the subject with Lucretia.

"Lucretia," She began. Her friend glanced over at her while examining one of the dresses.

"Yes Ilithyia."

"How does your new slave fair in the house of Batiatus?" Lucretia jerked in her direction violently, surprised that her friend would ever show interest in a slave like the rest of select few that noticed Isadora.

"Apologize Ilithyia, but to what purpose are we to broach the subject?"

"I only desire to know how she is. Much time has past since I had last seen her in my presence . . . as well as saw the way she beguiled the men and women of Capua."

"And that is the only interest you show in her?" Lucretia waved her slaves away and turned to Ilithyia.

"Are you suggesting that I have a secret agenda with your slave?" Ilithyia asked confused.

"She is no longer my slave. My husband decided to make her his. I only ask because you show much interest and ask of her much." Ilithyia stood up and went to her friend, taking her hands in her own.

"Lucretia. You and I both know that Isadora is not just a common slave. She has great potential of becoming a true Roman woman."

Lucretia snatched her hands away in disbelief. "Are you suggesting that I unbind her from the shackles of slavery so that she may have a chance of becoming a Roman woman? This is blasphemy. Ilithyia, how could you even think such a thing?"

"It is not hard to comprehend. Isadora is no ordinary slave and could be taught, if led with the right hand and proper guidance, to be a sophisticated woman, not bound to slave hood but to bask in the glories and treats that being a Roman woman has to offer."

"What you speak of goes again all things proper. To turn a slave into something other than what it is is offensive to all of Rome." Lucretia struggled to contain her frustration.

"There is no law saying that I cannot do such a thing. With the right eyes, ears, tongue, and nose Isadora will be able to fit in like no other. Besides, is Ashur not your husbands greatest advocate? And yet he is still a slave. The same can be done with Isadora if you would only put her under my care." Ilithyia smiled.

"It does not matter, as long as Isadora is my husbands personal slave you will have to take up the matter with him." Lucretia finalized. Ilithyia knew it would come down to that, and she also knew how fond Batiatus was of Isadora. However, she was determined to have Isadora by her side, not as a slave, but hopefully as a dear and trusting friend. She would definitely talk to Batiatus about it, knowing that he would be less lenient than his wife, but nonetheless she would find a way in coaxing him to see things through her eyes. Yes, planes were already being put together in Ilithyia's mind, working like gears in a machine.

***

Night fell when Isadora and Ashur finally returned to the Villa. The entire time she was with him she could feel his lingering touch, the heat of his breath on her cheek, the certainty in his eyes and the firmness in his grip. Ashur was a very intimidating man, one that was not to be messed with, however, Isadora felt that there was something beneath the cunning and deceiving exterior. Something that would be worth getting to understand. For the evening Batiatus no longer required her services and was allowed her to roam the grounds freely. Ashur, at his side when he gave the order, tried to make reason for Batiatus to give him the same fate, however, was bitten by disappointment when he was told otherwise.

Isadora was bored and did not know what to do. She was tired but restless in the same moment, resisting to succumb to the grotesque image of the Pits that would haunt her dreams. There was no moon out, and the only light came from torches of dancing flames with jumping shadows stretched across the marble floors and the slab walls. It was cold, but she couldn't feel it. She decided to go to the balcony, which she new would be abandoned seeing as Lucretia was asleep and Batiatus was handling late night business. She leaned over the railing, her hands rubbing against the smooth wood and breathed in the fresh air, greedily welcoming it to remove the stench from the Pits. In that moment she didn't feel like a slave as she looked at the clear sky, listening to the distant waves battering against the cliff. For a second Isadora was not a slave, but a woman. A woman that felt her beating heart ring in her ears, a woman that could taste the air on her tongue, a woman that could close her eyes and imagine herself somewhere else. Her back straightened, her neck elongated, her shoulders sank back, and her hands slightly gripped the railing as she took in another breath. Nothing could have ruined that moment for her, nothing could have made her feel as free and jubilant.

Then, at the sound of creaking wood behind her, Isadora came back to reality. The air smelt differently to her. The railing her fingers gripped felt different against her skin. Her flesh, that seemed to glow and soak up nature, felt rough and heavy as she carefully turned around to see who had approached. At the sight of him, she swallowed past the lump that had built in her throat and listened to her heart steadily pound in her chest.

"What are you doing here?" Her voice whispered.

"Batiatus wanted to share words with me."

"Not that. What are you doing here?" She gestured to the balcony. "Are the guards not escorting you back to your room?"

"No. We share a mutual friend." Spartacus approached her. "Cornelia."

"Cornelia? How do you know her?" Isadora pressed herself against the railing as Spartacus stepped closer, his body only a few inches away from hers. The man looked into her eyes, his hand slowly moving to her cheek, slightly cupping it while running his thumb carefully over the fragile skin. He had not realized how much he missed her until she stood before him-until she was in his arms. He could feel Isadora withdrawing and tilted his head to the side in response.

"What is it that makes you so uneasy?"

"You." She replied honestly. "You frighten me." Her eyes were glossy and irresistible to look at. Spartacus was drawn to her every word, pressing closer against her.

"And you frighten me." There was a long moment of silence.

"Do not think me a fool Thracian. I am not to be deceived easily."

"Deception is not my intent." He took one of her hands in his and lightly kissed the inside of her palm. "Your beauty. Your knowledge. Your patience. Your eyes. They are what frighten me; for that have cast a deep spell, reprimanding me to think of any other."

"Bold words from a foolish man." Isadora pushed him away and prepared to leave. "I have no intention of repeating what happened Spartacus. What we shared that night has already fleeted from memory."

"Harsh words." He replied.

"We live in harsh times."

"I saw you with Ashur earlier today. I watched him touch you with affection then lead you away. Is there reason for this?"

"None worth explaining."

"He is not to be trusted." Spartacus defended.

"And this comes from the Thracian that kills mercilessly like the rest of the ludus? I will not listen to this." Isadora turned on her heel. Spartacus was at her instantly, his hand upon her wrist, keeping her from leaving.

"Do not put your faith in him Isadora. You should not instill your trust in him." They searched each others eyes. Isadora jerked her arm away.

"I put faith in no one. For no one yet deserves it." She took a few steady steps back before whirling around and going to the servant quarters, where she should have gone in the first place. Cornelia, who waited patiently for them to finish, carefully led the agitated Spartacus back to the ludus below.


	4. Chapter 4: Thieves

**A/N:** Hello Everyone. First and foremost I am so sorry that I have not updated. Finals are coming up and my AP Exams are as well so I have been spending pretty much all my time studying (which is very boring, but hey i gotta do it). So you can imagine how stressed I have been lately haha. But yeah. Also I would like to thank everyone for their AMAZING reviews, they definitly keep me motivated. So I really hope you enjoy this one and continue to review and read the upcoming chapters. Thanks - K.A.M.

**Chapter 4: Thieves**

_Isadora's breathing relaxed at the feel of his touch, lingering across the curve of her side as she lay on the bed. Her chest rose and fell with her steady breaths, her eyes gently closed in tranquility that he was incasing her in. She let out a stifled moan as his touch sent new sensations threw her, tingling her skin. He moved closer to her, his bare chest pressed against her bare back, as his hand carefully moved under the thin fabric of the white sheet, pushing it down slightly, his fingers caressing her thigh and traveling down to the inside, gingerly parting her legs just enough for his hand to get between. Isadora's stifled moans increased, her hand clutching the sheet next to her, as Spartacus slowly penetrated her with his finger, first one, then adding another. Her relaxed breathing soon became heavy lengthy breaths; Spartacus pressed his body closer to hers, allowing his fingers to penetrate deeper as he dipped his head to side of her neck, tenderly kissing the flesh he had tasted not too long ago. He nipped at her earlobe with his teeth before continuing a long trail down the length of her neck with his tongue. He continued his menstruations on Isadora's heat, leisurely picking up speed as her moans filled his ears, driving him further to please her. Unconsciously, her hips began to move in unison with his fingers, meeting him every time. The hand the clutched the sheet quickly moved to grasp his, holding him their as his pace increased._

"_Spartacus," She exhaled. She could feel his throbbing arousal at the small of her back and she desperately wanted it inside her. He was causing her so much pleasure that it became unbearable, Isadora no long tried to contain her moans of bliss and allowed them to flow freely past her lips. Spartacus moved his free arm under her side and wrapped it around her, pulling her as close to him as possible. He wanted her so badly, even though he just had her. He wanted her to scream his name as he thrust into her mercilessly, relishing the feel of her walls contracting and relaxing around him. Isadora's hand continued to hold his as her other went to the pillow her head rested on, her grip tight on the edges. Spartacus could feel she was close, her walls constricting around his fingers. He quickened the pace a little more, which proved to be too much for Isadora, and she quickly came to her climax, her thighs squeezing together , keeping his hand in place, and her moans filling the room. However, Spartacus did not give her much time to recover. He turned her over on her back, his lips latching to hers in a passionate kiss of dancing tongues and heady breaths. She wrapped her legs around his waist and without hesitation, Spartacus quickly penetrated her core. He pulled away from the kiss and moaned, feeling her tight walls mold itself around him. She felt amazing._

_Spartacus pulled his arousal out, keeping only the tip inside her, before plunging it back in. Isadora moaned loudly, feeling all of him inside her. He continued this movement a few more times, receiving the same moan from her that made his mouth go dry. His lips found her again as he moved rhythmically, Isadora easily finding the rhythm and moving her hips to meet his thrusts. It was not long before both were panting, filling their desire for the other, moving with divine purpose to please their partner at the same time. Their moans filled the room, driving each other wild with desire. Suddenly, the table turned with Isadora flipped Spartacus on his back, not breaking the bond once, and hesitantly moved her hips back and forth, his member moving inside creating a new sensation. His hands found her hips, guiding her, as Isadora threw her head back and held back a moan. The sight of her moving was erotic to Spartacus, which surprisingly made him a little harder. Isadora's hands found his chest, her eyes closed, and hips moving with purpose. Her hips moved faster when she realized he was finding pleasure in her actions, watching him close his eyes and just feel her, feeling his grip tighten on her waist when she made slow and steady movements, and hearing him moan her name, gave Isadora more confidence in her actions.. She felt her climax steadily approaching, and when Spartacus lifted her up and placed her on her hands in knees, she knew that he was too. Spartacus breached her heat from behind and mercilessly drove into her. The sound of skin slapping against skin, Isadora's screams of ecstasy, and his moans of satisfaction filled the room. His head fell back as he continued to penetrate her, feeling her walls constrict around him like they had before, he knew he had to hold out a little longer. Then, her walls clung to his member, tightening and squeezing him as he thrust into her a few more times, the feel of her overwhelming, and came to his climax. They stayed in that position, riding out their orgasms, shaking, and clutching whatever was nearest, before collapsing onto the bed, Spartacus moving next to her, his chest heaving up and down, and his eyes closed._

Isadora woke up, her eyes on the peach wall next to her bed. Her breathing was heavy, and her mouth dry. She squeezed her thighs together to ignore the throbbing heat between them; for days she had been having erotic dreams about Spartacus. She had not seen him or spoken to him for days since their last encounter, so she immediately wondered why she would have such vivid and distracting dreams about him. It was true, she did desire him, but no to an extent that would cloud her judgment. The throbbing between her legs did not cease and she found herself in the same predicament as the nights before. But, just as the nights before, it was time for her to get up and prepare for the new day.

* * *

Spartacus woke up to another day of miserable agony. He looked down at the blanket that covered his torso and noted the sudden incline the blanket had taken yet again. He had another dream about Isadora, except this time, he had his way with her and fucked her how he wanted to. Spartacus was never the kind of man to masturbate, even if a woman wanted him to. He took a deep breath and fond his loin cloth and wrapped it around him, ignoring the pulsation of his cock. When he exited his room the fellow gladiators were entering the square. The sun peaked out of a forest of clouds, allowing small beams of light to scatter across the square ground only the be obscured by a moving cloud then revealed again. Spartacus went to the water container and cupped some in his hand before dropping it on his head allowing it to trickle down his neck and his face before wiping it away.

"He lives!" Varro grinned as he approached Spartacus, his arms open as if to embrace. "He lives." he repeated. "For a moment I thought you would have to be tended by Medicus. You exhausted yourself to near death the other day." Varro cupped water in his hands and splashed it across his face.

"I have been preoccupied." Spartacus went to the benches next to the container.

"Preoccupied, no." Varro sat next to him. "Distracted, yes."

"It is getting worse Varro." Spartacus said honestly.

"By worse you mean better?" He grinned, nudging his friend in the shoulder. Spartacus told Varro about the dream after his first few times. He didn't want to, but he knew that he was not performing as well and others were starting to notice. Spartacus smirked then shook it off.

"Yes and no." He replied. "My thoughts fill with her and the dreams only worsen it. It is ruining my performance and others have taken note, I do not know what to do." Varro patted his friend on the shoulder out of remorse. Varro lowered his voice so that only Spartacus could hear.

"I suggest you use your title as Champion of Capua and tend to your needs." Varro looked over his shoulder, Spartacus followed his gaze. Batiatus and Isadora stood there, looking down at the square while the gladiators warmed up. His gaze went to Batiatus then to Isadora, then back to Batiatus. Varro patted him on the shoulder again and went to warm up.

"Is something the matter Spartacus?" Batiatus leaned against his desk. "Is something bothering you so much that you continue to shit in my face for the past few days?" He yelled. Batiatus had noticed more than anyone that Spartacus was loosing it, and felt betrayed and disappointed by it. "Tell me," Batiatus approached his slave, his face tinted with red, "What is it that causes you to take my blessings and fuck them in the sand?"

"Dominus, I do not know how to say this." Spartacus replied. He was not sure on how to broach the subject with his already enflamed master.

"Then find your tongue and speak plainly."

"Reasons for my poor performance are . . . I am distracted."

* * *

"Distracted? And what is it that distracts you so?" Spartacus shifted his weight between legs and glanced down at his loin cloth. Batiatus followed his gaze and quickly burst into laughter. "So it is your cock that distracts you!" He said with realization, locking his fingers behind his head with a grin and went back to his desk. "I should have known." He chuckled. "Of all of my men you have been the longest without a woman. It is understanding that you would be distracted by your pressing need." Batiatus grinned. "I will send a slave for you tonight, but for now you train."

"Dominus, a do not desire just any slave." Spartacus said boldly. Batiatus furrowed his brows, causing wrinkles to form on his forehead that aged him.

"Who may it be then?" Batiatus allowed him to amuse his curiosity.

"Isadora." Batiatus' mouth fell slightly and his breathing stopped momentarily from surprise. He grinned and tapped his finger against his lips.

"You have good taste Spartacus. We you aware that Isadora is a virgin?" This time it was Spartacus' turn to furrow his brows. He did not know that she was a virgin. This new information surprised him but also made him more cautious and interested at the same time.

"No Dominus."

"Good." Batiatus replied. He paced around the room for a few seconds thinking. "Isadora is an very important asset to me. And to see her be tainted would be disappointing." He stopped at the end of the room, realizing something. "But to lye with the Champion of Capua is very rare, and the Champion does deserve the best." He glanced at Spartacus. "Not to mention it would not only be satisfying to you, but to her as well, seeing as she would be the first to fuck the Champion." He continued pacing the room again, then stopped. "I will give Isadora, only one condition." Spartacus nodded. "I have a series of games coming up, all within the next few days, if you participate in all of them and relinquish all of your earnings to me, then I will give her to you till your hearts content."

* * *

Ashur leaned against the wall of the balcony, not really sure of what to do. Batiatus had an uneventful and unplanned day, which left Ashur to do as he pleased. He crossed his arms over his chest and drummed his fingers against his skin. At that moment he started to remember what happened with Isadora in the Pits. He almost kissed her, almost. And the rest of that day he watched her intently when she was not looking. He saw her breasts body when she leaned over to aid Medicus and the round of her bottom when she scurried off the get something. She definitely had a body worth admiring, and he wondered what exactly she could do with it. At that opportune moment, Cornelia turned in his direction with a tray of food in hand. He let her pass, following her with his eyes, then briskly stepped next to her.

"Hello Cornelia. Taking this food to Batiatus I presume?" She looked at him from the corner of her eye.

"No. To Domina."

"Ah yes. Tell me. How close are you with Isadora?"

"For what purpose?" She kept her eyes fixed strait ahead.

"Only to understand her better. The woman is very complicated." He chuckled. "You spend the most time with her as well. When she is not with Batiatus she is usually with you, this is true is it not?"

"What Isadora chooses to do with her freedom is none of my business."

"It may not be, but if Batiatus were ever to find out that you were stealing more wine and Isadora's name just to happened to slip out, then maybe then it would become your business." Cornelia stopped in place and looked at him.

"You wouldn't dare." She sneered.

"You don't know me very well, do you?" He smirked. "Just tell me something worth hearing, and then you can be on your way." Cornelia rolled her eyes and cursed herself on the inside. She had stolen wine in the past and was badly punished for it. If anyone found out that she were doing it again then she would most certainly be killed.

"Isadora is a very . . . delicate person."

"You tell me what I already know." He chided and took a few steps away.

"Wait!" Cornelia hurried to him and lowered her voice to a whisper. "During the celebrations Isadora attended the one for the gladiators and Dominus. Spartacus also shows interest in her. Not to long ago he shared words with Dominus and I was ordered to lead him back to his room, while doing so he saw Isadora on the balcony and asked to speak with her. So I granted permission. From what I heard something happened between them at the celebrations and Isadora swore it would never happen again. Since then Spartacus has tried to have audience with her but has refused to. Not only that, Dominus keeps her protectively at his side because she is a virgin." Cornelia quickly walked away before Ashur could say anything. He took a moment to digest this new information; he knew that Spartacus was interested in her, but to hear that something happened between them was intriguing to him. Not to mention that Isadora lied about being at the celebrations which would not go well at all with Batiatus if he found out. But to hear that she was a virgin, well that just spiked his interest even more. Surprisingly Cornelia had become a huge commodity to Ashur in only a few minutes. He would make good use of her from time to time, and eventually, he would no longer require her services. A grin crawled onto his face and he went to find Isadora.

* * *

Isadora went to Medicus, to aid him with one of the gladiators as Batiatus had commanded. When she arrived she was surprised to see him already at work. The gladiator sat on one of the beds, Medicus completely hidden behind his bulky body. Isadora moved next to him and looked to see what he was doing.

"Finally. If it had taken you any longer I would rip a patch of his skin off." Medicus said. She noticed that his hands were shaking violently, maybe that's why she was sent. He handed her a pair of tweezers and a knife before going to sit on one of the other beds. Finish taking those stitches out then patch him up. Isadora sat down on the stool and looked at the gladiator and gave him a small smile before starting on the tiny stitches in his chest. Medicus watched her for a moment to make sure she was doing it right, then left to go get some food and water. Isadora pressed her free hand against her chest to steady herself and concentrated as she took the stitches out with the tweezers.

"So you are the slave that has been causing such a fuss." The gladiator said. Isadora looked at him then back at the stitches.

"I do not know what you mean." She replied, pulling one of the stitches out then taking the knife to start on the other one.

"Isadora, is it?" She stopped then looked at him.

"Yes. Forgive me, I do not know who you are." She took the tweezers in hand again.

"I am the champion of Capua."

"I believe Spartacus is." She glanced at him.

"I brought much honor and glory to this ludus. Spartacus is only a thief who took my title from me. But it soon shall be restored to its proper place."

"Those who dwell on the past only encounter pain and suffering." Isadora replied. "Words said to me by a very wise man." There was a moment of silence. "You must be Crixus." Isadora finished his chest and moved to his abdomen. "I find it interesting that a man that lost everything he held dear to him has not lost his humanity."

"You would not understand."

"I understand very well." Isadora looked at him and put the tools aside. "I too lost everything. My husband, my mother, father, my entire city, and eventually my freedom. I have met men that have encountered the same fate and completely isolate themselves or take their anger out on the Gods and everything else. That is why I find it curious that you do no do such things." Isadora smiled picking up the tools again. "That is a virtue, not weakness." She added.

"You had a husband?" He asked.

"Yes, only to be taken from me on our wedding day."

"I see. How did this tragedy come to be?"

"I do not dwell on the past." Isadora said plainly. "It only brings me pain, and my only desire is to forget."

"Forgetting is not moving on." Crixus replied.

"Maybe not, but it is far more easier than coming to terms with it." She finished his front and stood up and started on his back. "Having to come to terms is reliving every moment, every breath, every hurt imaginable that has happened in my life, starting when I was a child. No one should have to venture that far into their past." She placed her free hand on his shoulder and took the stitched out carefully, trying no to damage his already fragile skin.

"What you speak of is true. Which makes you weak." Isadora stopped. "You are afraid of pain." Crixus continued. "That is why you want to forget, because forgetting means you do not have to harbor the pain of your loses, because forgetting means it never happened. You are weak because you cannot face the truth and search for an easy way out. And instead of letting people in you push them away for fear of reliving your past. You are not strong, it is only a mask you wear to hide the fragile identity that is the real you."

Isadora swallowed past the lump in her throat as pools of water swelled in the corner of her eyes, threatening to spill over. A tear loosened from her eyes and fell down her cheek towards her chin and landed on his shoulder blade, flowing down his back. Crixus felt it and shivered slightly and almost felt bad for what he said.

"Have you always been so incisive?" She cleared her throat. When Crixus did not reply she quickly finished taking out his stitches and left at the same time Medicus entered the a glass of water and a plate of food. She dashed past him, wiping her tears away. Medicus looked at her then at Crixus, then back at her.

"She didn't even finish!" He yelled, slamming his items on a counter.


	5. Chapter 5: Ashur, Crixus, and Spartacus

**Chapter 5: Ashur, Crixus, and Spartacus**

With the new day came new opportunities. Ashur, Doctore, and Batiatus went to market to purchase new slaves; on the balcony Batiatus, Ilithyia, Lucretia, and the personal slaves along with Isadora watched as Doctore spoke to the new slaves. Isadora could see that Ilithyia was particularly excited about the minor event-her eyes glazing over with wonder and admiration as the secret workings of the ludus slowly started to reveal themselves. Isadora too had a tinge of fascination. She was not sure of what to expect and was curious of what would become of the new men. Isadora looked at all of them, her eyes stopping for a moment on each face, comparing them to the gladiators she already knew. None of them compared to the ones that already existed. At the moment they were young and innocent, but soon their hands would be tainted with the blood of others and their minds altered into that of a ravenous animals. Isadora swallowed disgust and glanced at Batiatus, the man creating the animals.

"A gladiator does not fear death. He embraces it. He caresses it. He fucks it." Doctore spoke, a small wind of laughter emerging from the gladiators that already bore the mark of Batiatus. From the corner if her eyes, Isadora could see Ilithyia and Lucretia speaking, Grins and small giggles could be hear, however she paid no mind when a hand appeared on her shoulder. It was Ashur. He lowered his lips to her ear so only she could hear.

"May I have audience?" He asked. She could feel the heat of his breath against her neck as he spoke. She glanced over at Batiatus, then at Ashur and nodded her head. They exited the balcony, however, staying close by if Batiatus required them. They walked toward the end of the hall, Isadora some space away from Ashur. He stopped at the end of the hall and turned around so to face her.

"What is it?" Isadora was the first to speak.

"Hasty are we?" Ashur smirked.

"No. I only want to get back to Batiatus before he asks for me, or you for that matter."

"I am not worried about Batiatus." Ashur crossed his arms over his chest. "You on the other hand, should be somewhat worried." Ashur started to pace a large curly around Isadora slowly, his eyes on the ground that met hers frequently.

"What do you mean?" She looked over her shoulder at him. Ashur stopped directly behind her, his eyes lingering to her ass through the transparent fabric of her dress.

"You deceived Batiatus."

"I did no such thing."

"But didn't you?" Ashur challenged. He continued to pace around her again. "You told him you did not attend the celebrations for the gladiators some time ago, when in fact you did. Then, that little incident that happened with Spartacus, twice actually, never came to his attention."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Isadora stood her ground. Ashur stood in front of her, his body in very close proximity to hers. He ran his hand down her cheek, letting it slide down to her neck as he soaked in her body to memory.

"I know what happened between you and Spartacus." He said, taking a strand of her wavy her and twirling it around his finger before tucking it behind her ear. "If Batiatus were to find out that you were having . . .questionable confrontations with the Champion, I believe he would not be happy, since you are so valuable and protected by him." His eyes lingered down to her core, remembering what Cornelia said about Isadora being a virgin. He had hoped that by acting like he knew something happened between Isadora and Spartacus, that she would easily tell him the deed, but was surprised when she said nothing of it.

"I have ceased contact with Spartacus. I have told him that the incident will not happen again." She replied sternly. "If Batiatus is to hear anything, then it will be the truth. Not lies that you have woven from long-forgotten facts."

"But they are facts nonetheless." He grinned.

"Facts that have agreeable explanations. I have nothing to hide Ashur." Isadora retorted. "Spartacus and I shared a kiss and a moments word. There is nothing else to be said." Isadora turned on her heel and went back to the balcony, leaving a curious and bemused Ashur behind. In truth he had not expected that. Isadora and Spartacus kissed, well now he knew what the deed was, however, new questions filled his mind. He knew that Spartacus would have kissed her first, Isadora just wasn't that bold, but he wondered how many times it had happened, or if Isadora was even telling the truth. But most of all, he wondered what would happen if Batiatus found out this interesting piece of information.

* * *

Spartacus sat down on the bench, his chest heaving from the exhaustion he was suffering from. A few day's had past since the new recruits arrived, and they were working very hard. He worked with each of them, almost everyday, helping them in becoming better fighters and in turn, gladiators. But none of that mattered to him. Isadora alone was enough to fill his thoughts, and the constant rejection he was receiving made him angry and frustrated. He asked Cornelia to ask Isadora for audience, however, whenever she came back with word, it was always rejection. Spartacus could not understand why Isadora continued to refuse him. All he wished was to speak with her, but if that could not even be granted, then how could he expect to go any further with her? He dropped his head in his hands, steadying his breaths and his increasing heart rate. He glanced over his shoulder when Varro took a seat next to him.

"You have done well today." Spartacus could hear his friend grinning as he spoke. "A little on the slow side, but well."

"Compared to you who fights as a dog would run from a cat?" Spartacus smirked once he caught his breath.

"Speaking of cats, how do things fair with your fiery feline?"

"Nothing has changed. I have asked for audience, but she continues to refuse."

"Well what about the offer from Batiatus? If you took it then you would not be in such a sad predicament." Varro furrowed his brows in confusion.

"I did not accept. Isadora is not a prize to be won by coin and victories in the arena. I believe such things would only push her further away."

"If that's even possible." Varro laughed, but quickly stifled it when he saw his friends hardened expression. He cleared his throat. "Well, if you cannot go to her, make her come to you."

"I do not understand."

"I am sure you have heard that Isadora is working with Medicus now?"

"No. Since when?"

"For some time. She aids with Crixus mostly. All you have to do is get in to see Medicus, say you're not feeling well or are very sick, and she will be there. Then you will have the opportune moment to speak to her or whatever it is you wish to do." He winked, hinting at the more intimate side of the situation. Spartacus thought about this for a moment.

"She aids with Crixus?" Spartacus asked more to himself than Varro.

"Yes, quite diligently so I've heard. I have heard him speak of her from time to time, but nothing of note. However, it does seem that they are growing quite fond of each other."

"I do not need to be hearing this Varro." Spartacus bit his tongue.

"Yes you do dear friend, because if you plan on making Isadora yours than consider all others in this damned shit-hole. A target has been placed on her back by many an eye, if you are not careful and quick you will find her in the arms of another, whether it be by force or free will."

"The others I do not worry about." Spartacus looked at Varro. "My only concern is Ashur."

"Ahh, yes the man that piss and shits on anyone with a moments breath." Varro leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and looked at Spartacus. "Worry about Ashur then. But do not let him alone cloud your gaze. In the end it is Isadora's choice, and the actions you take will either push her further away or closer. But you must give her space Spartacus, or else all attempts at romanticizing her, even the most sincere gestures, will guide her into his or anothers arms."

* * *

When Isadora was ordered by Batiatus to aid Crixus, she was surprised. She had helped him for some time and he was showing signs of improvement, but when Batiatus urged her vehemently to go quickly, she wasn't sure of what was going on. She ran down to the ludus below, entering the medical room where she saw Crixus sitting on a slab at the far end of the room, Medicus no where in sight. She walked over to him and hesitantly stepped around. Once she saw the condition he was in, all she could do was wonder. His nose was bloody, along with a few of his wrappings while some were torn. She also noted that some of the stitches on his chest had reopened.

"What happened?" Her eyes wandering from his torso to meet his.

"Nothing." He lied, his gaze leaving hers. Isadora kneeled before him, lifting one of the wrappings on his torso, slightly hissing once she saw the damage.

"You fought didn't you?" She placed it back. Crixus did not reply. She shook her head in disapproval. "I have told you that you are not ready." Isadora looked at him. "You needed more time for your wounds to heal, and you need more time yet for them to heal again."

"I had reason." He said.

"And what reason would that be?" Isadora challenged. When he did not reply she stood up and removed all of his wrappings, assessing him completely. His body was dirty with grime and dirt, and if she didn't clean him there was a good chance his reopened lacerations would become infected. She grabbed a pitcher of water, a sponge, and a large bowl. Isadora emptied the pitched into the bowl and dipped the sponge in before wringing it out and wiping it across his chest. Crixus cringed when the sponge went over opened wounds, his hands clenching into fists by his thighs. "You must be patient Crixus." Isadora explained, meeting his eyes every now and then. "Or else you will never see the sands of the arena." She dipped the sponge back in the water, wringing out the dirt and grime so that it could be used again. She continued to clean him before doing anything major.

"Apologize. For what I said before." Crixus said suddenly. Isadora stopped mid-swipe over his chest and looked at him. There eyes met for a very long moment, which was actually a few seconds, however, it felt very long. She left his gaze and continued.

"No need for that. After all, it was the truth." She half-heartedly smiled.

"It was not my place. I had no right to say those things to you."

"No, you didn't. But you did anyway. That is in the past now, so lets not worry about it anymore." She looked up at him and smiled. "Besides, I have gotten over it for the most part, seeing as I needed to do some self-reflecting. I suppose I can thank you for that."

"Have you always been so optimistic?" He asked.

"Yes, and no. However, I do try to be when I can." She grinned. "Seeing as I stand here, or kneel, before you now because of Batiatus."

"What has he done for you?" He almost hissed.

"He saved me from a very hard and disgusting life of what would be prostitution, if he had not bought me then, I don't know where I would be. Seeing as most women are beaten to death."

'Such a fate could never befall you." Isadora met his eyes. Crixus was surprised to look in them and see a hint of sorrow along with remorse.

"The same could not be said for the other women of Carthage that were brought here. While I stay here, serving in a ludus, being treated fairly and respectfully, they lie on their backs or get down on their hands and knees, and prey to the Gods that they will see another day."

Crixus looked at her. He could understand her feelings of guilt and shame. While she lived a life of luxury compared to others, her women were being tainted and broken. She would always feel guilty, wondering why she was the one that was taken to a ludus where she was ensured protection, food, drink, and a place to sleep every night. He lifted her chin up with his forefinger and thumb, making her look at him. Her eyes were glossy with a coat of salt water over her eyes. The corner of his lips turned up into a slight smile. "You should be thanking the Gods, for not giving you such a fate. Thank them, and pray that they will bestow as much good fortune on them as you have brought to us."

Footsteps could suddenly be heard in the hall outside of the room. Isadora stood up and Crixus looked over his shoulder to see who was approaching. A guard entered first, followed by none other than Spartacus. Spartacus looked from Isadora to Crixus, then back to Isadora. The guard left leaving the three of them alone in the room. Crixus looked to Isadora, there eye's met for a moment.

"Leave us." He said. Isadora nodded her head and quickly wrapped his wounds before leaving. Her eyes stayed fixed on the ground she tread on, so as not to the Thracians eyes. She tried to quickly pass by him, however, his hand hooked onto her elbow as she passed, his grip tight but not painful. He held her next to him, forcing her eyes to meet his. Nothing needed to be said, for it was all said in his eyes. The pain, frustration, lust, impatience, wrath, passion, sincerity, all contained within a single glance. His grip loosened, letting her elbow slide from his hand, as she continued toward the door. The guard entered the room again.

"You over reach," Spartacus said. "and here is the result."

"Do not address me as you would a recruit." Crixus retorted.

"Then do not act like one."

"Words of import from the mighty Spartacus. Bringer of rain, slayer of Theokoles. As if you stood against him on your own. Without my aid . . .you would have nothing. Not even your miserable life." Crixus mocked.

"True. But here I stand, and there you sit."

"You know shit about being a champion. Of being a true brother. You're only playing at your own part. But one day the game will end." Crixus looked over his shoulder. Spartacus approached him from behind, stopping a few feet away from him.

"Death comes to us all," He looked down at Crixus, hovering over him like a bird in the sky. "press me again and you shall find yours."

* * *

Isadora remained in the hallway, ready to return to Crixus once Spartacus and the guard had departed. From where she stood, she could only hear bits and pieces of their conversation, but her heart sank when she found out that Spartacus was the reason for Crixus' regressed condition. She heard foot steps fast approaching from the room and went to the other end of the hall, farthest away from the room. The guard and Spartacus emerged, however, he stopped before her and asked the guard if he could have a moment. The guard gave him ten minutes and walked off, completely out of sight. Spartacus took Isadora's hand, ignoring her protests, and went around a few corner till they were alone.

"Why have you refused audience with me?" He pressed her against a wall, his body close to her. She diligently shoved him away.

"I did not wish to speak with you."

"Why?" He pressed.

"You infuriate me at every turn. You annoy me and are constantly badgering for attention. You hurt others, without even the slightest compassion. You do as you please without the consent of others and you only care about yourself. There. Is that reason enough for you?" Her words spilled out before she could stop them, a bad habit she had whenever she was angry. Her heart pounded in her chest and her breathing became quick. She looked at him in the light and was abruptly hit by the erotic dream, the most recent one, she had about him. Her heart and breath were no longer racing from her anger, but now the heat that slowly started to build between her thighs and acute anxiety. She swallowed past the lump in her throat. "I must take my leave now." Isadora said, but couldn't will herself to move. She was frozen in place, her mind screaming at her to leave, but her body staying fixed in front of Spartacus.

Spartacus stepped closer, his body pressing against hers, taking her hands in his gently as he pinned them on either side of her head. Isadora watched his hands, still unable to will herself to do anything aside from the screaming voice telling her to push him away.

"I can no longer contain myself." Spartacus said. He looked deep into her beautiful eyes, loving the sight of them and putting it away to memory. "I desire you, and I well not stand by idly because you wish me to. I will not continue to play these games."

"There are no games Spartacus, only you being ignorant and refusing to listen to me." Isadora hissed, struggled to remove her hands from his grip.

"I am ignorant?" He asked with a smirk. "Isadora you are in denial. You continue to push me away even though your only desire is to become close with me. I can see right through your charade," Spartacus gave her a very slow once over. "and I think it is about time you stopped."

"There is no charade."

"Then why are you still here? You said you would take your leave but you didn't. You are still here, in this position, with me." Isadora could not find her tongue. She couldn't answer the question, she was incapable of doing so. Whenever she was around him her knees would buckle under her, leaving her limp and vulnerable. Her legs began shaking, struggling to keep her up. Before she could do anything Spartacus picked her up, wrapping her legs around his waist, and pressed her against the wall. Her hands clutched his shoulders from instinct. Isadora looked at the ground from the side, seeming suddenly far away and very high up, she looked back at Spartacus.

"What are you doing?' She asked alarmed. One of his hands went to her hip while the other slid behind her neck, his head moved in closer to hers, tilting to the side at the same time. All Isadora could think about was those dreams, and how one of them just to happened to be about him making love to her in that same position against a wall. The heat between her legs continued to grow and she couldn't help but whimper when his lips pressed lightly against hers, teasing her. Her hand slid down his chest, feeling the heat of his flesh being soaked in by her own. Isadora knew what she was doing was wrong, but it was true; she wanted Spartacus, badly, and even if she continued to pretend not to, she would never admit her insatiable lust to him. Spartacus pressed his body closer to her, closing all space between them. The hand on her waist tightened, pressing the loose fabric against her skin as he continued to tease her. Isadora was in a fit of disaster, not receiving the attention to her lips she vehemently desired.

"Please," She exhaled, biting the corner of her lip in anticipation. His eyes-hooded with lust- met hers. Her hands slid back up his shoulders, down toward his shoulder blades, then back over to his chest. She continued the act, watching his eyes close slowly then open again to meet hers. Without hesitation Spartacus brought his lips to hers in a fiery and bruising kiss that he had been longing for since the last time. All he wanted to do was to touch her, to put her curves and flesh to memory. His tongue darted in her mouth-meeting hers- deepening the kiss as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her breasts against him in the process. Both moaned into the kiss, feeling the passion and lust the other was experiencing. They parted, needing to catch their breath, until Spartacus continued the trail of passion and lust down her neck. Licking, biting, and sucking at the skin, Isadora moaned loudly when he found her sweet spot just where her neck met her shoulder. He continued to work the sensitive skin, relishing in the sound of her stifled moans when she bit her bottom lip.

Isadora abruptly pushed him away, pressing her hands against his chest, and looked in the direction of footsteps. "Let me down." She said urgently. Spartacus reluctantly let her down and detached himself from her. However, he was surprised when she took his hand in hers and led him back to the medical hallway they stood in earlier. Just as they reached the hall the guard was turning a corner in their direction. Isadora quickly adjusted herself and the guard was by them instantly. He looked at both of them, his eyes going to Spartacus then Isadora.

"Times up." He said in a deep voice. "Follow me." He turned his back and continued back down the hall he came. Spartacus turned to Isadora and brought his lips to hers one final time, pressing her close against him, before departing.

Isadora smiled to herself once he was out of sight. She leaned against the wall, hand on her pounding heart, breathing in slow steady breaths. She lightly laughed at what just happened. She enjoyed every bit she tasted of the Thracian and the burning heat between her legs only enflamed that. Her fingertips touched her lips, remembering the feel of his pressed against her own, his urgency, his lust, his intensity. Her hand went back to her beating heart, still fluttering in the clouds, swiftly stolen by Mercury with his winged sandals. She looked in the direction Spartacus went, still imagining his figure there. "May Jupiter damn me to the underworld for how much I want that man."


	6. Chapter 6:  Ambition

**A/N:** Hello everyone, new chapter. Yay! Well, I need to clear up one thing b/c of have been asked this quite a bit. As far as the relationship between Crixus and Isadora goes, both are simply friends. Crixus is still with Naevia. For Isadora he is more of her go to guy (which will come to pass in later chapters), the one she is gonna talk to when stuff goes down and complications with Spartacus arise. So yeah, Crixus and Isadora are friends, that is all. So in conclusion, here is the latest and greatest new chapter and I hope you enjoy. Please review if you want more!

**Chapter 6: Ambition**

_Spartacus lye on his back, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. He didn't know why, but his breathing was heavy, heavier than usual anyway. He took in a deep breath to relax and closed his eyes, feeling the softness of a bed underneath him. He opened his eyes again. What am I doing in a bed? He thought. He perched himself up on his elbows, looking around the room only for a moment before being pushed back down. He watched with curiosity as Isadora straddled him, her knees on either side of his waist. _

"_What are you doing?" His brows furrowed together, creating small wrinkles where they met. She was completely naked on top of him, her bare, supple breasts pushed together as she pressed her hands against his chest lightly, leaning forward._

"_You desire me, do you not?" One of her hands disappeared. Spartacus gripped the sheet under his hands, feeling Isadora's fingertips wrap around his pulsating member, it was then that he realized he too was naked. Spartacus looked down at where her hand was then back at her._

"_Yes, but-"_

"_Sshh." She cut him off, placing her forefinger from her other hand against his lips, shifting her weight onto his thighs to support herself. "Just relax. I will take care of you." Her hand slid up his jaw line and down his neck before settling on his chest.. Her other hand moved up and down his shaft a few times before positioning it at her entrance, the entire time her eyes fixed on Spartacus. Isadora whimpered as she slowly lowered herself on him, Spartacus' hands immediately going to her hips. She placed her other hand on his chest, sliding up to his neck as she slowly began to move back and forth. Spartacus sucked in a breath and closed his eyes from the overwhelming pleasure of Isadora's heat. His hold on her hips tightened as she continued to move back and forth on him. Her core was so tight and unbelievably hot, molding around him while scorching him in the best way possible. He swallowed past the lump in his throat and looked at her: her eyes were closed and her head tilted back as she stifled a moan. Her hands moved down to his pelvis as she lifted herself up halfway and came back down. Spartacus groaned at the movement that caused Isadora to arch her back, allowing him to penetrate deeper. He shifted his hip upwards, Isadora yelping and moaning in surprise. She pressed her hands harder against his pelvis, keeping him down, giving him a menacing look with the gesture. _

_Isadora's moans began to fill his ears as she continued the movement, tauntingly slow first, then quickly picking up speed. Spartacus' hands tightened on her hips, keeping her steady as she rode him hard. Their breathing mixed together into ragged, course breaths, their hearts pounding in their chests. Isadora had no idea what she was doing to the man. What she was doing was amazing, don't get him wrong, but he was a man, and men always take the lead when it comes to matters of the bed. Spartacus leaned up and grabbed her by the back of her neck, pulling her down to him in a searing and passionate kiss that made Isadora slow down. She bent at the elbow around his head, lying completely against him. His tongue diligently penetrated her mouth, tasting her and quenching his thirst for her at the same time. Then, without hesitation, Spartacus pulled away abruptly, to Isadora's surprise, and collected both of her arms and pinned them behind her back, making her completely immobile. He held here there with one hand while the other went to the back of her thigh, pulling it closer to him, at this adjustment he thrust his hips upward, penetrating Isadora from a completely different angle while going deeper than ever. _

"_Spartacus," Isadora moaned out, arching her back from instinct. Spartacus' hand went to her waist, lightly caressing the skin before thrusting up again, the entire time keeping eye contact. Her head collapsed against his neck, the pleasure overwhelming her and he barely even started. Spartacus continued to thrust up slowly, letting one of her hands go. Isadora gripped his shoulder with her free hand , moaning into his ear, her breath against his neck. That was more than Spartacus could take. He plunged into he mercilessly, relishing in her moans and screams of ecstasy. He released her other arms and gripped her hips, keeping her in place while he drove into her with extreme force and speed, skin slapping against skin. _

"_Mmm, yes, yes, yes . . . Spartacus, fuck, don't stop." Isadora moaned as he penetrated deep inside her, hitting that one spot every time that was becoming her demise. Her grip on his shoulders tightened, leaving crescent shape indentations in his skin. Spartacus continued to hit her sweet spot with every thrust, driving her deeper into madness, but she was more than willing to fall. She bit back several moans, one of her hands slapping against his chest every now and then roughly, but as not to cause any pain, for some kind of release._

"_Let me hear you Isadora," Spartacus growled and picked up speed, receiving a scream from the woman's mouth. "That's it, let me hear you." Her noises were driving the Thracian crazy, never in his life had he ever heard something so irresistible. He could feel her coming to her climax, her walls constricting around him and pulling and pushing at his member. Spartacus could feel his climax steadily approaching as well, and with a few more thrusts Isadora reached hers. He continued his harsh penetrations, letting her ride out her orgasm while creating a new one in its wake, moments later his climax rocked him, pushing deep into Isadora while moaning her name. Their breaths mingled in the suddenly scorching heat that surrounded them, but Spartacus didn't care. He got what he wanted, and now he could not wait to get more . . ._

Spartacus woke up in a cold sweat, his heart pounding in his chest, breathing erratic as his chest heaved up and down. He sat up on his cot and put his head in his hands. He was ecstatic that things had improved with Isadora, but the dreams only became more vivid due to it, or so he believed. Whenever he saw her a memory of a dream would invade his mind, however, he was able to contain himself and keep his cock under control . . .for the time being. He wrapped his loin cloth on, hearing the fellow gladiators already hard at training, and proceeded outside. He grabbed food and drink before going to the square, two wooden swords in hand. Spartacus went to the wooden cross, thoughts of Isadora still chained around his mind.

"You should be happy." Varro approached him, sword and shield in hand. He put his shield down on the side and gripped his wooden sword. "The Gods have finally blessed you!" He grinned as she stuck the cross, Spartacus quickly followed suite.

"Or cursed me." He struck the cross hard, returning it with another strike from the other blade.

"And why would this be?" Varro grunted as he attacked the cross brutishly. Spartacus looked over his shoulder, seeing Crixus looking over the court.

"I saw her, with him." Varro looked in the same direction, seeing who he was talking about.

"Well that is obvious. I told you she aids Medicus with him."

"For how long has she been working with Medicus?" Spartacus brought his attention back to the cross, striking it with a powerful blow.

"A few week's I suppose. Maybe a month? It is difficult to say when you can't breath down her neck to see what she is doing." Varro replied sarcastically.

"I am doing no such thing." Spartacus retorted. "I am only concerned."

"And for what reason?" Varro stopped and looked at his friend. Spartacus stopped as well, listening to Varro. "The Gods have blessed you with this beautiful woman. One that is willing to be by your side and yet you doubt her as if she were common. You must trust in her," Varro pointed his sword at Spartacus. "and do not jump to conclusions because you are concerned about other men. If this is how you will continue to act than Isadora deserves much better, she deserves a man that will trust and confide in her, not someone who will constantly badger about her duties and obligations brought upon her by Batiatus."

"Calm yourself Varro." Spartacus went to his friend and patted him on his shoulder, noticing that her face was turning slightly red. "Calm yourself."

"Isadora is not a common woman Spartacus." Varro pressed.

"I know this." Spartacus replied.

"Then act like it. Treat her as a proper man would treat her." Varro shrugged his hand off and grabbed his shield from the sand, going over to one of the recruits and sparring. Spartacus shook his head; Varro could be very passionate when it came to something, but he knew the idiot made sense. Isadora wasn't a common woman, she was much better than that, but that is what confused Spartacus. How would he treat a woman that was completely different from other's he had been with in the past?

* * *

Ilithyia gingerly entered the office of Quintus Batiatus. She saw him sitting at his desk and cleared her throat to gain his attention. He looked up from a mess of papers then quickly stood up.

"Ilithyia, what gives me the honor of your presence?" Batiatus asked. Ilithyia remembered very clearly her conversation with Lucretia. She believed that Isadora had great potential of becoming a Roman woman: she was intelligent, beautiful, charming, charismatic, and humble, as such were the traits of Roman women. Moreover, Ilithyia grew tired of her friends, constantly humiliating her, and desired someone that was a bit more on the quiet side, but still enchanting enough to be in the presence of. Batiatus walked around his desk and stood a few feet away from her.

"Good Batiatus, it has been some time since I have come to the ludus. How does it fair?" She asked, just to start the conversation.

"Very well. There have been much victories in the arena, thanks to Spartacus and a few of the other gladiators."

"As should be expected from the Champion of Capua." She hid her disgusted look with a faint smile. "And how of Crixus?" She took a few steps toward him.

"He has regressed somewhat, but much improvement has been made with the aid of Medicus and Isadora. I believe he will see the sands of the arena in due time."

"Isadora is no longer your personal slave?" Ilithyia asked in surprise. Batiatus crossed his arms over his chest. Lucretia had told him over her interest in Isadora, but was unsure of the extent of her interest.

"Yes she is, however, since things have been running very smoothly I hardly require her services. So I let her aid Medicus when he allows. Do you have interest in Isadora?"

"I would not call it an interest, more of a fascination, or curiosity. I believe Isadora would be capable of much if led by the right hand."

"Capable of what exactly?" Batiatus' brows furrowed together in confusion.

"Of capturing the hearts and eyes of all of Capua. If given the proper guidance she could become very popular, and a very valuable asset to you Batiatus."

"I believe she is both already Ilithyia. What are you suggesting?"

"Nothing, of course." Ilithyia paused for a moment. "But, if Isadora were put under the care of a women with a substantial reputation and high status, I believe that there would not be much she could not be able to do."

"Are you suggesting that I put her under your care so that you may . . .train her into becoming a Roman woman?" Batiatus said with a blasphemous expression.

"Not a complete Roman woman, after all she is a Carthaginian. But, you did see how she beguiled the men and women at the celebration you held Batiatus. If Isadora simply improved her already clear characteristics, and you held more celebrations, then you will be able to gain the support of every man in Capua, their eyes forever captured by her grace."

"What you speak of is unheard of."

"Yes, but I believe Isadora is more than capable at completing the task. If you do as I have suggested, Batiatus, then you will have all the coin you will ever need. Your status will be greatly improved, your wife and future children will be cared for, and this life you know now will become a distant memory. Isadora is the key to your success, all you must do is unlock the barrier, and your future is secured." She stepped toward his desk, running her fingers across the smooth wood. "I know of your intentions to join politics; put the slave under my hand, and your hard efforts will no longer be required." They shared no more words, for Batiatus could not find them. Ilithyia took her leave, leaving Batiatus alone in his office, only with the company of his thoughts.

* * *

"You may see the sands of the arena yet." Isadora said with joy as she finished wrapping Crixus up, placing fresh cloths on his healing wounds. She glanced over his shoulder and watched Medicus, who sat in the back of the room doing nothing, leave. She shook her head and rolled her eyes. "I swear, that man has not even picked up a needle and thread since I have arrived." She tied a knot around his shoulder to keep the wrappings from falling off.

"You are much better than he." Crixus looked at it and lightly tugged, checking to see if it was loose. "You are much more delicate as well." He grinned. Crixus stood up and stretched out his arms. Isadora could not help by marvel at his figure; every time she was with him he was either lying down or sitting, never standing, so to see him in this manner was surprised. He was much taller than she thought, and much more proportional (whenever he sat down his upper body always looked bigger than his lower. She was glad to see that it was not the case).

"Is Medicus rough when it comes to treating others?" She asked, diverting her eyes from his chest.

"It depends on how injured you are, and if he likes you." Crixus grinned. "I have seen myself grow on him, but since you are here, I am not sure he cares for me or anyone else much."

"Let us pray that, that is not the case." Isadora laughed, but quickly stopped when she saw a figure in the doorway. It was not Medicus. Crixus looked in the direction her gaze went and almost growled, but suppressed it. Ashur approach them, his hands folded on top of the other in front of him. His eyes were locked on Isadora as he moved closer.

"Speak your purpose and leave." Crixus barked, his eyes narrowing at the snake. Ashur stopped a few feet away and smiled at Crixus.

"It appears that you are doing well. Thanks to this woman's lovely hands." He glanced at Isadora from the corner of his eye. "We all hope that you will see the arena soon, to fight amongst gladiators again."

"When I say he can." Isadora interjected. "He still has much time yet." Her hand pressed lightly against his shoulder. This small gesture did not leave Ashur's watchful gaze. He became confused, but also interested in the minor touch.

"Of course." He looked back at Crixus. "We wouldn't want his injurious to postpone his training any longer." There was silence, awkward silence. Crixus, Isadora, and Ashur stood in a triangle like shape, glancing from one person to the other, hoping eventually that someone other than Isadora would leave. Isadora met Ashur's eyes, which peered at her with an emotion she could not interpret. "Leave us." She looked at Crixus, who stared perplexed and frustrated at her.

"Isadora-"

"Leave us." She stated, cutting him off before he could object. His eyes narrowed and his brows furrowed, the corner of his lip turning into a disgusted frown as he stepped past Ashur, deliberately shoving his shoulder against the snake. When the two were finally alone, Ashur brushed his shoulder off.

"You work quickly Isadora," He took a step forward. "To capture the hearts of Spartacus and Crixus, as well as every other man in this ludus, is very impressing."

"I have done no such thing." Isadora sneered.

"But you have." Ashur took another step forward. Isadora flinched at his advancements. "You have Spartacus on one hand, and of late Crixus on the other, not to mention the other gladiators that look at you with such longing when your back is turned." He gave her a very slow once over, seeing her shudder under his gaze.

"And do you count yourself among them?" She asked boldly. His eyes met hers again, looking at her with a gleam she could not interpret. He chuckled lightly, masking it with a smirk and looked at the threshold behind her, seeing the gladiators hard at training.

"I have seen and heard much of you and Crixus. Have you grown . . .attached to each other?" He evaded the question easily.

"I owe you no explanation. My relation with Crixus is completely by order of Batiatus, unless you are assuming that Batiatus has plans for Crixus and I?" Her eyes narrowed at him. Ashur took a few steps closer, feeling the warmth of Isadora's flesh radiating into his own. His body was only but a few inches away from hers, and was surprised to see that she stood her ground so firmly.

"Batiatus would have none to gain in doing such things, however," He paused. "there is reason to believe he is trying to get more people to notice you."

"And what would be the purpose in this?" Isadora challenged.

"That, is unknown to me."

"Then until there is cause for this unruly assumption, I suggest you find other matters of import to fill your time, and not bother me with such trifles." She hissed.

"Isadora," Ashur's hand gently went to her shoulder, she withdrew at the sudden motion but did not remove herself completely. He ran the back of his fingers across her shoulder and up her neck, moving over her hair just before stopping where her ear was. A small smile placed on his lips as he spoke: "The house of Batiatus is not what seems."

"What is that suppose to mean?"

"Here, ambition is a virtue." Ashur removed his hand and turned around, walking away as he said: "You will soon come to learn that in this house, people will take whatever means necessary to get what they want. Even if it is at the cost of another."


	7. Chapter 7: Benefits

**Chapter 7: Benefits**

Lucretia fumbled her empty glass of wine in her hand as her husband spoke. Her servant, Naevia, caught it quickly before it fell to the ground, setting it back on the table. Lucretia gestured for her to fill it up again as she took in a sharp breath.

"You cannot be considering Ilithyia's proposition, Quintus." She watched her husband as he lazily paced back and forth across their bedroom chamber. "She would only be doing it for her own gain, besides, is it not suspicious enough that she takes interest in Crixus and now Isadora?"

"Crixus has nothing to do with this. I have thought many times of Isadora's value, Lucretia, but never thought of her in the way that fucking Glaber's wife does."

"Her intentions are still unknown, Quintus." Lucretia stated. "Until a reason is brought to light then Isadora will have no part in this. Ilithyia has already weaved her way into the confines of the ludus, do not let her pry any deeper." Quintus sat next to his wife at the table, drumming his fingers on the surface.

"Isadora has much value. If put under the snakes care . . .our efforts for Senate could be greatly improved." He sucked on his teeth and made a sound, thinking about the situation. "But still, we do not know Ilithyia's plan, for all purposes it could be flaunt the poor girl in the company of guests."

"And that very well may be it." Lucretia added and leaned closer toward her husband. "Ilithyia saw how your slave captured the attention of everyone at the celebration. Having Isadora by her side would undoubtedly make her more popular and envied by the public and her peers. And, catch the attention of Marcus Crassus' cousin."

"Licinia?" Quintus' formed a grin. "Marcus Crassus, the son-of-a-bitch is the richest man in all of the republic!"

"Noted. As a matter of fact, Ilithyia insinuates visiting tonight with friends."

"Licinia among them?"

"Unquestionably." Lucretia drank from her wine glass.

"Well then," He stood up. "We shall start preparations. Until then, I want Isadora found and fitted." Lucretia gave him a look of shock and disgust.

"Has your mind flown?" She asked. "Are you really going to accept Ilithyia's offer?"

"Relax Lucretia." He went to his wife and stood behind her, carefully massaging her shoulders. "You worry too much."

"That is not an answer, Quintus."

"I will not accept until her intent has surfaced. Much has yet to be discovered about Ilithyia, but until then, I would have the slave found and fitted."

"For what reason?" She looked up at him. He took in a deep breath and stopped massaging her shoulders.

"See that it is done, before our guests arrive. And when she is fitted, come get me." He patted her shoulders and left, leaving a disgruntled wife behind him.

* * *

After hearing what Batiatus and Lucretia spoke about, Cornelia left the room quickly. Isadora had to know what was going on, for her own good. Cornelia feared that Batiatus would take Ilithyia up on her offer, which would leave her alone, with her fate hanging in the balance. She knew that if Isadora left, nothing would stop Ashur from telling Batiatus about her stealing wine from the stores-even though he would have nothing the gain, the sight of seeing her suffer, or possibly killed, would be reward enough. She gulped at the thought, imagining one of the gladiators with a giant blade beheading her. Cornelia shook the thought away as she was about to cascade down the stairs to the ludus entrance, but was stopped when a body emerged from the staircase.

"Where are you off to in such a hurry?" Ashur grinned. Cornelia opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She couldn't tell him that she was going to find Isadora, she already hated herself for last time. "Find your tongue and speak." He continued up the stairs, causing Cornelia to step back until he was on the same floor as her.

"Wine for Domina." She lied. Ashur looked toward the ceiling and took a deep breath, folding his arms in front of him. After a moment, he looked back at Cornelia.

"This would be much easier if you were not so intent on hiding things, Cornelia."

"I don't know what you're talking about." She said. Ashur grabbed her by the arm and quickly pulled her to the side, hidden by the shadows as the sun slowly started to set.

"New information has surfaced about Isadora, this I know. But what it is, is unknown to me." He explained.

"No such thing has happened." She lied again.

"Well," Ashur smiled. "If that is what you want me to believe then I will have audience with Batiatus, and ask him if he has noticed that more wine has gone missing."

"Must you threaten me?" Cornelia hissed.

"Apparently threats are the only form of persuasion you will respond to." Ashur retorted. "What is going on with Batiatus and Isadora?" He asked. Cornelia rolled her eyes and lowered her voice.

"Ilithyia came, not to long ago, and offered Batiatus something." She started.

"What was it?"

"From what I heard, she gave him a proposition: Batiatus would give Isadora to her and she would secure his position in politics. Isadora would be put under Ilithyia's care and technically become a Roman woman, no longer a slave. That is the latest news."

"And has Batiatus approved this?"

"No, not yet."

"So he plans to?" Ashur pressed.

"He is unsure at the moment. His only desire is to figure out Ilithyia's intentions before making a decision. Until then, Isadora is to be found and fitted by his wife before her guests arrive this evening."

"For what reason?"

"That is unknown." Cornelia said. She watched him as he thought. She couldn't help but wonder how the man she secretly desired so willingly used her without remorse. The fact that he was aware of her feelings made it even worse, and more complicated. In the back of her mind, Cornelia hated Isadora, for getting all the attention even though she was just a slave, but still, Isadora was the only person she knew, and didn't want to be left alone. Cornelia was very conflicted, and wasn't sure of what to do, since she was betraying her friend and protecting her at the same time. "What is your interest in Isadora?" She asked boldly, disturbing the mans thoughts. He looked at her and smiled lightly, running the back of his fingers down her cheek that sent a wave of shivers down her spine.

"Nothing that concerns you." He said, withdrawing his fingers and taking his leave before she could say anything. Cornelia looked at his leaving figure, then at the stairs. At the moment, she didn't feel like telling Isadora about what Batiatus had in store. She thought it would be best if highly desired slave found out on her own.

* * *

Isadora examined the gladiators wounds, debating over whether or not he was ready to join the others in training without further injuring himself. Crixus flinched at her touch, which was odd since he was very used to her. Isadora shook it off, thinking that her sight was fooling her, for every time she touched him, the Gaul would twitch or evade or do something out of the ordinary. Finally she gave up, throwing her hands in the air in defeat.

"If you don't stop fidgeting we will never get done!" She exclaimed. When he did not reply, only kept his eyes fixed to the ground, Isadora became more concerned. She took a seat next to him and tried to obtain his gaze, but to not avail. "Are you in pain?" She asked. No reply. "Crixus you must tell me these things. How am I to be expected to do the duty bestowed on me properly when you will not participate?"

"I am in no pain." He said in a somewhat low voice that was difficult for Isadora to hear. She was not sure why he was acting that way; she had never seen him in a depressed or sad state before, so this was surprising for her. Isadora carefully placed her hand on his shoulder, moving it back and forth in a soothing manner.

"You are a horrible liar." She said, still trying to catch his eye. "I cannot imagine anything that would bring Crixus, the most righteous and stubborn man I've ever met, to drop his head as if defeated." Crixus tilted his head in her direction, finally meeting her gaze. "Tell me." She said, the corner of her lips turning up in a soft smile. "What is it that bothers you so?" Crixus dropped his head, as if not hearing Isadora's words.

"I am being sold." He said in the same low voice.

"What?" Isadora said in confusion. "You are being sold?" Her brows furrowed together and eyes narrowed from her perplexity. "What do you mean sold?" She could not wrap her mind around the idea.

"Batiatus plans on selling me to another ludus." He replied.

"Another ludus? B-b-but why? You are nearly healed; you will be able to fight again in no time at all, Batiatus cannot do this to you!" Isadora started to speak faster and her face became hot and flustered, a common habit when she was completely confused, angry, and frustrated.

"After the event with Spartacus I doub-"

"Spartacus?" Isadora interrupted. Crixus looked at her. He could clearly see the concerned and confused expression as day and night. "What happened with Spartacus?" Crixus looked at everywhere except her, for he knew that she would be mad for not telling her. "What happened, Crixus?" She pressed, her tone changing into that of a mother that was about to scold a child. He met her eyes again and just before telling her, he could see the gears in her mind take motion. "The other day?" She asked. "Your wounds reopened that day, and your nose was bleeding. You fought Spartacus didn't you?" She shot up from the poor bed, her hands clenched in her hair. "Spartacus did that to you? And then he has the nerve to show up here and . . .and," She suddenly remembered the kiss they shared. At the moment, the love she felt for the man disappeared, replaced with hatred and confusion. "And to do that! Spartacus . . .that bastard."

Crixus did not understand why she was making such a fuss over Spartacus and the fight they had. Crixus silently admitted that is was his fault, that he should have known better, however, it was the heat of the moment. There was nothing else he could do, and since Batiatus was already on the balcony, it was the opportune moment for him to prove himself once again. Crixus stood up and stretched out his stiff limbs, feeling suddenly refreshed at the sight of Isadora throwing a tantrum. Isadora suddenly pointed a finger at him.

"I asked you what happened and you said nothing."

"It was not for you to know." Crixus replied plainly.

"I am here in place of Medicus, that entitles me to know what happens to you Crixus!" Isadora snapped.

"I do not understand why this is so important to you!" Crixus snapped back, taking a step towards the woman. "Spartacus and I have frequent quarrels, none of import, this is nothing new Isadora."

"It is important! I care about what happens to you Crixus, and now that word has gotten around that you will be dispatched to another ludus how do you expect me to care for you in the condition your in?"

"I did not ask you to do such things for me." Crixus barked.

"You didn't have to!" Isadora stomped her foot. "I was commanded to!" Silence filled the room. Isadora was right, she was commanded to aid him by Batiatus. If it wasn't for him, they probably would not have ever met. He let out a deep breath and sat back down on the bed, looking at her.

"Right," He said in realization. "You were commanded to."

"Do not mistake me Crixus. I may be commanded to aid in your recovery, but it is by my own will that I share words with you. That I care about what happens to you. That I want to see you happy, and if that means returning to the arena then let it be done. Do not think me a fool just because I am here." Isadora sat down next to him, dropping her head in her hands. "I will have words with Batiatus about your situation-convince him to let you stay." Crixus tilted his head toward her.

"Forgive me for keeping the incident with Spartacus away from you." He wrapped his arm around her shoulder. Isadora lightly laughed at him and shook her head.

"You are not the one that will be needing my forgiveness."

* * *

"I do not understand why I must be dressed, Domina." Isadora stood on a podium, countless servants circling around her, fixing, adjusting, measuring, and just about anything else that could be done to a dress. She had left to see Batiatus, but was interrupted by his wife, who led her away and into the position she is now.

"Neither do I." Lucretia sat on one of the couches next to where Isadora stood and drank some water. "However, my husband believes that you deserve better. I hardly thinks so, but you are his slave." She placed the glass down. "The decisions he makes regarding his personal slaves have nothing to do with me, so you should consider yourself grateful. If it were I, you would become one of the whores in the Pits." Isadora gulped, imagining what it would be like. "But again, it is not my decision to make." Lucretia added. She stood up and walked in slow circles around the podium that Isadora stood on. Isadora wore a long white dress, the straps hung low, but snug, just below her shoulder, fashioned with pieces of gold thread around the hem and torso, making a strange but elaborate design. Over the thin and somewhat translucent fabric was a baby blue cloak embroidered with small beads of multiple colors. The cloak hung loosely from her shoulders and crossed under her breasts, making them appear large and more rounded than normal, held in place by a beautiful white and baby blue belt, then continued to flow down the rest of her body. The attire clung to her skin, accentuating her small waist and hips more than she liked, but she remembered that it was only a fitting. Her hair was done up intricately, wrapped and weaved around her head to make it look like waves, and a few stray pieces left to frame her face and one long strand, curled to perfection, at the nape of her neck rest over her shoulder. If a stranger walked in at that moment she would most likely be considered a friend of the Batiatus household, not a piece of their property.

A clamor of footsteps could be heard entering the dressing room, Batiatus entered, followed by Ashur and a few of his other slaves. "She is a sight for the Gods!" Batiatus praised, his arms open wide. He clasped his hands together and brought them to his lips in astonishment. "She truly is amazing, better than I could have ever imagined. The Gods have truly blessed this woman with divine beauty that not even Venus herself could challenge!" He approached Isadora and slowly paced around her. "My wife has unrequited skill for these things. I put you into the right hands indeed." He grinned. "What do you think of this Isadora?"

"It is beautiful Dominus."

"That is because you are. The clothes only accent your beauty." He teased. "What do you think Ashur? Is she not a sight?" Isadora watched Ashur as he moved closer to her, catching her gaze then giving her that look she started to recognize more often, then one that showed hunger and lust, like some type of predator.

"She is magnificent Dominus." He smiled. "Much better suited for these things than the life as Medicus' aid." Lucretia sat down and continued to drink her water, rolling her eyes at the situation. Batiatus went over and sat next to his wife, keeping an eye on the slaves that tended to Isadora's dress as they made a few adjustments.

"I want Isadora to be there when your guests arrive tonight." He said in a whisper. His wife nearly spit up the water, but quickly swallowed it with little composure. "Not as a guest," Batiatus patted her hand as a way to mitigate her increasing frustration.

"Then as what?" She challenged.

"After this Isadora will continue her duties, as everyone else. I want her to be there as a servant, so that you may watch Ilithyia."

"I am already watching her."

"Yes, however, if both are put into the same room, and if Licinia Crassus is coming, then the bitch will undoubtedly try to pull something regarding Isadora. This may allow us to figure out what her intentions are."

"Then what was the reason for this?" Lucretia gestured to Isadora in the dress.

"Only a test-to see what she would look like amongst us." Batiatus lightly smiled. He turned to his wife again and lowered his voice. "There is a matter that requires our attention. I must speak to you in private." Without regard to anyone they left the room, leaving their personal slaves behind. Isadora was completely finished, and the workers helped her down the podium, making sure she did not trip or fall. Ashur approached her and lent a hand out for her to grab before completely touching the ground. She coldly declined it, lifting the dress up so she would not step on it.

"You are more beautiful than all the goddess combined Isadora, I mean that truly." He smiled, watching her as she patted down the dress.

"Liar. You have never uttered a word of truth in your life." She replied, meeting his eyes.

"That is because truth never appeared in front of me until today. Truth is beautiful." His eyes glistened as he looked at her. Ashur knew he was right, Isadora was far more suited for a life of luxury than the one she had. She deserved to be envied and loved by everyone, because she deserved more than what she was being given.

"I will not hear what you have to say Ashur. After you insulted me, then accused me, then insulted me again, you hardly deserve a second of my time."

"Apologeze. Harm was not my intent."

"Then what was? Trying to convince me that I am two-timing Crixus, Spartacus, and just about every other man in this ludus? I will not accept your apology." She hissed back. "You have only been cruel and rude, constantly insulting me at every turn. You really are a snake Ashur; words filled with venom and treachery."

"Your words pain me Isadora." Ashur put his hand over his heart. "Are you this cruel to Spartacus?" At that moment he looked behind her and smirked. Isadora looked over her shoulder to see what he was looking at and saw none other than the Thracian he spoke of. Spartacus looked from Ashur to Isadora, his gaze staying on her longer than she had desired. His pace started to slow as he passed her, looking at her attire, and slowly meeting her eyes. Her expression hardened slightly, remembering what Crixus told her only moments ago. She looked away and heard the guard push him forward, most likely taking him to Batiatus. Ashur looked over his shoulder and watched Spartacus as he left, and grinned. "I suppose you are." He answered his own question.

"You know nothing." Isadora calmed herself. Water started to glazed her eyes as she wondered how the situation turned so sour. "Why must you always complicate things?" She half yelled at him. "Just stay out of my business, you are neither needed nor desired."

Ashur stepped to her, swiftly, his body slightly pressed against hers. Isadora flinched at the suddenly close proximity, but kept her ground. "That can be changed." He ran the back of his forefinger down he side of her left cheek. "I know what you are keeping from Batiatus. Imagine if he were to find out that his most precious slave has gone behind his back and had questionable encounters with is most prized gladiator." Ashur continued the trail down her neck, past her collar bone, and down her breast to her torso.

"You think to highly of yourself." Isadora snarled.

"No I don't." His fingers stopped at her waist, feeling the soft fabric under his fingertips. "I just know more than most." Ashur smiled and pulled away. "It would be wise not to grow to bold Isadora." Ashur turned around and started to walk away, however, Isadora wasn't done with him.

"What do you have to gain Ashur?" She asked, quick on his heels. He stopped and turned around.

"I beg your pardon?"

"By telling Batiatus, what would you gain?"

Ashur folded his hands in front of him and shifted his weight to his good leg. He looked at her with a scrutinizing gaze that quickly disappeared. "Batiatus does not know, that is all that matters. I cannot be held accountable for his actions if he were to find out."

"Bullshit. If anything you would be suggesting actions to him." Isadora stepped to him, her face a mere few inches away from his. "I know what people say about you Ashur. You never do anything without some kind of goal, whether it be self preservation, or getting rid of someone. So what is it that you hope to achieve by speaking in riddles and threatening me?"

Ashur paused before he spoke. He had not expected her to be so incisive. "I told you not to long ago that many men in this ludus stare at you with much longing when your back is turned, their desire ever fueled by their hope to have you in their grasp."

"And?" Isadora asked confused.

"One of those many men is much closer than you think." Ashur turned on his heel and left Isadora, for what she hoped would be the final time that day.


	8. Chapter 8: Confrontations

**A/N:** Hello my readers. I am soooo sooooo very sorry that it took forever for an update. I had serious writers block, and I couldn't find any inspiration for this chapter for some reason. So i know this one is going to be a horrible chapter, and if you think it is just tell me so I can change it or fine tune it or whatever. On another matter, I have a poll (some of you may have voted, some of you probably havent) on what my next fanfic should be. And right now there is a **4 WAY TIE**! So I really need votes so that tie can be broken and i can start having an idea on what my next fanfic is going to be on. **So please vote on the poll (Every Vote Matters To Me!) and please please review.** Thanks :)

**Chapter 8: Confrontations **

Isadora was surprised when Batiatus told her to go to market on such short notice, the sun was barely visible and the fire torches were already lit, lighting the way through the dark streets and ally ways. Not to mention, Lucretia's guests would be arriving very soon, and Isadora had to make sure she was there before they arrived so as not to get in trouble with the woman. However, she also felt the need to leave the ludus; the stress and confusion brought about by Ashur, Spartacus, and just about every other person in the damned place was to much for her. Of late, her heart started to feel heavy, for what reason she did not know, but it felt as if a giant weight had been placed on it along with a lock, keeping it in place. She let out a deep breath and pulled her slaves robe closer (Batiatus made her change before leaving). She looked down at the small list Batiatus had given her, containing the things he desired; her eyes narrowed at the list, barely able to formulate them into words. She could tell by looking at them that they were some kind of plant, and assumed that it was comprised of things Medicus desired to help speed Crixus' recovery.

Isadora turned a corner, her eyes still fixed on the list, trying terribly to pronounce the words. After a few moments of complete failures she folded the list and placed it into her robe pocket. She looked around, suddenly realizing that she did not recognize any of her surroundings. To her right was a large open area, filled with small booths crowded with drunk men hitting on women-whom she assumed to be whores-and directly in front of her was a dark ally, no torches lit the walls, but people were seen towards the end of it. She took a few steps back and turned around, keeping her head low and hiding in the shadows. As her surroundings became even more unfamiliar, panic began to set in. Her pace quickened as well as her breathing; Isadora had no idea where she was, and soon regretted not asking for someone to go with her. She was reaching the end of a street when a man, with the stench of alcohol engulfing him, emerged, laughing in complete merriment. She stopped before him, not being able to go around the stranger. He saw Isadora, his laughs slowly dying down as he drunkenly trod closer to her.

"This may be my lucky day." He said with a grin. Isadora stepped back as he moved closer. Torches were lit on the wall next to them, so both could see the other as clear as day. "How much?" He asked.

"What do you mean?" Her eyes narrowed at him.

"You know exactly what I mean." He replied with a hardy laugh. He was instantly on her, his hand wrapped around her waist, pressing the innocent woman against him. Isadora growled in disgust and pressed her hands against his chest in an attempt to push him away, however, he wrapped his other arm around her waist and pressed her lower body against his. If the close proximity didn't scare Isadora, then the feel of his erection pressing against her thigh definitely did. "I just got paid today," He whispered in her ear. Isadora held her breath, trying not to inhale his wretched stench. "and I want to put my cock in your tight-" However, he never had to chance to finish when he was abruptly thrust from her, a large fist colliding with his face-knocking him out cold. Isadora clutched the robe around her chest and struggled to breath as she watched the man moan and groan on the floor.

"Isadora, are you alright?" Doctore turned to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. She grabbed his arm to steady herself and slowly regained her breath from the momentary shock.

"I am fine." She released him. "What are you doing here?"

"Ashur convinced me to look after you." Isadora snarled at the mention of the bastards name, her lip quivering. Doctore removed his hand and stood erect. "And good thing I did. It is not wise for you to be in the city at this hour."

"Batiatus is to blame. If it was not for his stubbornness there would be no need for your protection. Or that mans current state." She pointed to the stranger that almost defiled her.

"Stubbornness?" Doctore looked at her quizzically.

"Yes. I objected to him but he insisted that it be done at this hour by myself." Isadora pulled the list out of her pocket and handed it to him. "These are the items Medicus desires in an attempt to quicken Crixus' recovery." Doctore gave it a quick scan then folded it and put it in one of his pockets.

"Come then, we must make haste to get you back." They walked in silence as they looked for the medicine man. Isadora did not know Doctore well, but had seen him work and saw the pain and magic he could create with his whip. She glanced down at it out of the corner of her eye-it was fixed to his waist. She couldn't help but imagine what it would feel like to hold it, to have the rough handle under her palm and willing it to move whichever way she pleased. She was unexpectedly pulled from her thoughts when he asked her a question that she would never expect from him.

"What are you doing with Spartacus?" Doctore turned his head so that he was looking directly at her. A lump suddenly formed in her throat and she wasn't sure of what to say.

"I don't know what you mean." She replied honestly.

"I train gladiators, Isadora. I am responsible for their failures and victories in the arena, I know them better than anyone. Spartacus has always been passionate about one thing or another, but now he has finally accepted his fate as a gladiator of Capua-a champion. I can see that he is distracted and I hear it. He is regressing, and you are the reason for this. What are you doing with Spartacus?"

Isadora thought for a moment. Doctore was blaming her for the champions regression. "I have done nothing to Spartacus. If he is distracted then it is by his own cause, no fault of mine. I have my pride Doctore, I am not a woman that is easily swayed by the likes of men."

"He speaks of you much."

"And? Does not every other person in the ludus? I do not care for these things, and if your gladiator is distracted then is it not your duty to make him focus?" She challenged. Both searched the others eyes, looking for something they couldn't describe, but unable to find it. "Do not be so quick to blame others for your short-comings Doctore. If you had done your duty as his trainer then this predicament would have never risen. Now it is your burden to bear."

"You speak with a bold tongue." He said looking down at her, a hint of admiration in his tone. "Not all women would be so quick to speak so harshly to me."

"I am not all women, Doctore."

"That is obvious."

* * *

Spartacus sat in the bathhouse, scrubbing the dirt and grime from the days training from his arms. He was perplexed, to say the least. When he saw Isadora in the villa earlier that day he hardly recognized her; she was so beautiful and captivating in the dress she wore-it suited her. However, the image of her turned dark with Ashur in her presence, and when he passed by her, her expression hardened and she looked at him impassively. The tenderness and love that he was so accustomed to seeing in her eyes was no where to be seen. His mind riddles with questions. Why was she wearing those garments? What was she speaking with Ashur about? Why did she look at him so harsly? All these questions and more, but no answers. That always seemed to be the case with Isadora, there would always be questions but hardly any answers. His thoughts were pushed away when Varro sat down next to him on the rim of the tub, hesitantly putting his feet in the steaming water.

"Is it just me, or did Doctore work us harder than usual today?" Varro grimaced as he slowly placed his sore feet into the water. He hissed as the overly heated water contacted his skin, immediately seeing them turn a light shade of pink underneath the dirt that covered them, but continued in placing them in, slowly adjusting to the temperature.

"Just you." Spartacus grinned. "The same could be said to the recruits, however."

"I saw you leave earlier," Varro started to scrub the dirt from his body as he spoke. "was it to see Batiatus?" Spartacus paused, his mind going to Isadora. Varro noticed the sudden hesitation. "Did something happen?" At his words Spartacus' mind clicked back into motion.

"Yes and no." He said passively-he tried to hide the strife in his voice as much as he could.

"What is that supposed to me?" Varro looked over at him quizzically.

"I saw her while I went to see him." The Thracian replied. Varro immediately took it as Isadora, since he was the only woman he spoke of for months passed. "She was in the Villa, with Ashur. But she wasn't wearing servants clothes. Instead," Spartacus stopped and rested his elbows on his knees, envisioning her as if she were directly in front of him. "She wore this beautiful white dress and baby blue cloak that clung to her skin in the best possible ways. Her fair skin, glowing in the light, her brilliant eyes glistening like thousands of diamonds, her soft and luscious hair like the moving tide just before sunset. A goddess stood before me, one that kills me everyday with just a simple glance."

As Spartacus described her, Varro could not help but feel sorry for his friend. He knew that no good would come from the relationship with Isadora, only pain and suffering. Because of their situations as servant and slave in the house of Batiatus, both would be shattered into a million pieces from the devastation and heart-break both would endure. Varro knew that Spartacus would be the one to suffer the most out of the two - he had lost so much already: his wife, his country, his freedom, his humanity. But still, Varro could see that in the room full of darkness that encased his friend, through a small crack, a shrivel of light came through. Isadora was that light. Varro knew it would end in disaster, but Spartacus had found a bit of joy from the world of pain he fought through, and as his friend, he was going to let him enjoy it while he had it. And when the time would come, he would be there to pick his friend up from the ground that he had fallen upon endlessly, and embrace him.

"Why was she dressed that way?" Varro asked once Spartacus stopped.

"That is unknown to me. But does it matter? She has finally been treated how she should have been from the very beginning."

"And that is all? You only saw her? You did not share words?"

"We could not. However, I would not believe even if it were just her and I. When I looked at her, her expression hardened; like it did when we first met, full of detest and disinterest."

"Ashur may be the reason for this." Varro replied. "We both know that he has been trying to swoon her. Is it not reassuring to see that his methods are futile?"

"That may be the cause, but still it worries me." Spartacus replied. Varro placed his hand on his friends shoulder and shook him lightly.

"All will be well." He lied. "You need only to give it time."

"If only it were a different time and different place." Spartacus replied pathetically.

"If it were then she would probably be off with a husband and children of her own. And you and I would be unaware of the others existence."

"Spartacus!" A guard barked suddenly. Both men looked over their shoulders toward the entrance. "You are summoned." Varro gave Spartacus a reassuring glance and watched him dry off and exit the bath.

* * *

After returning from market with the required herbs and medicines Medicus required she went to him diligently to give him the items and rushed back to the villa, where Lucretia and her guests already awaited. When she arrived eyes were immediately drawn to her, but quickly diverted. Ilithyia's gaze, however, lingered.

"Yes, we all love each other and have orgies under the new moon." Licinia Crassus said as Isadora quickly took her place behind Licinia and stood by until commanded otherwise. "Now, tell us stories!" She demanded. Isadora recognized all the women, for she frequently heard much about them and saw all of them on occasion outside the ludus walls. The other two she believed to be Caecilia and Aemilia, but other than that she did not know much about them.

"Yes, tell us everything about this horrid place." Caecilia chuckled. The atmosphere suddenly turned bitter and uncomfortable at her words.

"She means the ludus below." Ilithyia corrected with a grin.

"Do I need and interpreter?"

"Apparently!" She snapped back

"Do be quiet! Let her speak." Licinia silenced them. "How do you live among such beasts?"

"My husband sees them well tamed." Lucretia replied. Isadora rolled her eyes at the statement. That was hardly the case.

"I pray not fully." Licinia said with a wicked smile.

"Licinia." Caecilia was surprised by her response.

"Some instinct remain, so that they may unleash their savagery in the arena." Lucretia continued. Caecilia chuckled as she looked around the room.

"I'd go insane here, surrounded by all these animals, high atop this mountain. Would you not prefer to live in the city surrounded by real people?" She asked. After that Isadora refused to pay anymore attention. It annoyed and aggravated her how much the rich and famous of Capua were quick to flash their wealth and fame and embarrass others. However, she could not help but admit how glamorous and beautiful they were compared to the other women in the room. Their robes were countless shades of colors that the eyes could not look a one spot for too long before being distracted by another just as colorful and elaborate. Fatigue over came her as she stood their, hardly listening to the conversation. Her eyes grew heavy with sleep - the cold air was not helping her state either. Isadora struggled to stay awake, so she pinched her arm roughly and held back a hiss from the spot of pain. She was awake momentarily, but was on full alert when she saw Spartacus enter.

His expression was hard, yet soft at the same time as he looked at her. Isadora quickly diverted her eyes, but could not help but look when Licinia approached him. She gently grazed the pads of her fingers of his chest. When she met his eyes, they were no longer looking at her, but directly a head.

"He stands as Mars, ready for war." Licinia said in a whisper. From the corner of her eyes Isadora could see the admiration, fascination, affection, desire, and longing in her face. "Is their truth to the legends, gladiators share the blood of the Gods?"

"Mighty Crixus, certainly." Ilithyia said, her disdain for Spartacus clear in her voice.

"There is a man, truly blessed by the Gods." Caecilia approached Spartacus as she looked at him.

"When will we see him in the arena again?" Aemilia asked.

"Soon." Lucretia approached from her position next to Ilithyia, stepping closer to Licinia.

"What of you Spartacus?" Licinia asked in the sweetest voice she could conjure. "Are you a blessing to us?" It was not until her words did his gaze meet one of their eyes. He looked at Licinia as he spoke:

"To some. To others," He looked at Lucretia. "a curse."

"The duality of his kind." Ilithyia responded. "Admired as a gladiator, but despised as a slave."

"He is much more than a common slave. You can feel it radiating from his flesh." Licinia challenged. Isadora did not like were this was going. Licinia looked at him like a piece of meet, that was all hers for the taking. Isadora stood more erect at the thought of the bitch doing something with Spartacus. A dry lump formed in her throat as she struggled to push the thought away. "I have heard tale of a champions blood containing many restorative powers."

"A few drops in a glass of wine is said to make a man hard for days." Aemilia giggled.

"Such are the legends." Replied Lucretia.

"Well I would test them for myself," Licinia turned to Lucretia. "If I could."

"Certainly." Licinia smiled. "I will have a messenger with a vile-"

"I would have it now." Licinia interjected. Awkward silence filled the room. Isadora looked to Spartacus, who glanced at her from the corner of his eye. She was tempted to go over and slap Licinia Crassus for even thinking such a thing, let along trying to do it. However, she held herself firm, planting her feet to the ground like a marble statue. She watched Ilithyia grab a knife from the table next to her.

"May I have the honor?" She approached Spartacus. She placed the knife just below his naval.

"Take care not to cut to deep." Lucretia grimaced.

"Legend does call for the blood of a dead gladiator, does it not?" Both looked at each other with hatred. "But such details should not concern us." She ran the knife over his collar bone. "Spartacus will die soon enough." She moved it down lower, over his chest, then started to apply pressure. "To the roar of the crowed." Blood began to stream where the knife cut and she quickly placed the glass against his chest, allowing the blood to flow in.

"I do not believe he will ever fall in the arena." Licinia said beside Aemilia. "He is a God among men."

"He is nothing but a Thracian dog!" Ilithyia interjected. "His treachery dishonored Rome."

"It is you husband who bears the dishonor." Spartacus spoke boldly.

"Guards." Lucretia called.

"He abandoned defenseless women and children, left them to be raped and murdered." Two guards took him by both sides.

"Get him out of here." Lucretia demanded. She gestured for Isadora to go with them, and she quickly do so. She did not hear what else was said as they took him away. Isadora told the guards to take him to the medical room so that she may clean his wound. They diligently took him there and sat him down on one of the stone beds. She gestured for them to leave and did so hesitantly.

"You are a fool Thracian." She spoke suddenly.

"You said that once before." He grinned. Recalling the first time he kissed her. At the memory the urge to press his lips against her became overwhelming. In an instant he stood up and wrapped his hands around her waist and pressed her body against his. She felt to warm and amazing. However, before he kiss her she pushed him away gently, making sure no to touch his cut. He was taken aback by her action and new that something was wrong. "You push me away as you have in the past. What is the cause of this?"

"You are the cause." Isadora's temper began to rise as she remembered what Crixus had told her. "I know of the quarrel you had with Crixus. It was by your hand that he came to me in pain and covered in blood."

Spartacus' brows furrowed together. He was confused but would listen to her anyway. "It was by his own hand that he came to you in that state."

"Do not think me rash Spartacus. He told me everything, unwillingly. You know of his condition and yet you indulged in him? What am I to make of that?" Isadora folded her arms under her chest.

"It happened by his own doing."

"Which could have been prevented by yours!" She barked. Silence filled the room. Isadora did not know what to think, and neither did Spartacus. She no longer knew what she was upset about, whether it was Licinia looking affectionately at him or his fight with Crixus or Ashur's attempts to beguile and threaten her, she did not know. Spartacus could clearly see the frustration on her face as she looked at the ground, refusing to meet his eyes.

"What would you have me do?" He let out a deep breath.

"Don't do anything." Isadora hesitated. "Just, remove all thoughts of me from you mind. I am tired of the constant battles between you and I. My only desire is to end it."

Spartacus grabbed her shoulders and forced her to look at him. "It will never be over between you and I. We are bound by the same fate." He pushed a strand of hair away from her face and for once finally understood her. "You are afraid to have what you want. Because everything you have ever wanted has always been taken from you. I sympathize with you. But do not be afraid to desire me, Isadora." He whispered. "I will not leave unless you want me to. I will be here with you, as long as you'll have me."

"You are a gladiator." Isadora's eyes glazed over with a thin layer of salt water. "You are bound to die in the arena."

"I will not." He cupped her face in his hands. "For I have something worth fighting for. I have something I want to protect. Do not be afraid of me, Isadora. I beg of you." Overcome with emotion and his affection for her, his lips reached hers in a searing and passionate kiss that would make the Gods themselves shiver from the emotion. His hands went down to her waist and hers around his neck as the kiss intensified. All the love and fear both had poured into the kiss, their tongues meeting in a sweet and delicate dance that made their hearts pound like the sound of Jupiter's lightening bolt. Nothing could compare to that moment of revelations where Spartacus and Isadora finally gave in to their desires without restraint and without thought of the consequences.

It was at this time, also, that the gears were set in motion for their love to be built and tested.


	9. Chapter 9: Proposition

**Chapter 9: Proposition**

Ilithyia rested peacefully in her bed, it felt good to be home; wrapped around the familiar sheets of her bed, the quiet and tranquility that came without being at the ludus, the feel of the gentle and clean breeze coming from her bedroom window tickling her skin. Of course, a part of her current had a bit to do with the man lying next to her, his bare chest pressed against her bare back, his fingers laced with hers, his breath creating gooseflesh on the back of her neck. It had been so long since she had last seen her husband, Claudius Glaber, and when he arrived at there abode that evening, well . . .Ilithyia would not be getting much rest. As much as she wanted to enjoy the moment, however, a matter of much importance was nagging her in the back of her mind, focusing all her attention on it.

"My husband," She spoke in the dead silence. Glaber rustled beside her, pulling her closer to him, hinting that he was paying attention. "There is something I desire."

"Have I not already fulfilled it?" He replied with a grin, kissing her shoulder. "Or do you require more?" He brushed his lips along the length of her neck. Ilithyia shivered under the touch.

"It is something else I desire." She smiled. "Something I believe you will find . . .advantages to you." Glaber perched himself up on his elbow and looked down at her, now she had him.

"Go on." Ilithyia sat up and wrapped the sheet around her naked body.

"I have spent much time at the ludus, with Lucretia and Batiatus." His eyes narrowed as she spoke of them. She knew very well that her husband had a strong detest for them. "And I have recently come a cross an item of great importance to them, to Batiatus." She grabbed his hand and started to trace circles in his palm.

"This item . . .does it hold much value?" Glaber asked with intrigue, his face that of a business mans.

"If you call beguiling the public, gaining attention upon entering a room, capturing the hearts of the most highly revered men in the Republic with one glance, then yes, it holds much value."

"It is a woman?" His brows narrowed. Ilithyia met his eyes, the corner of her lip turned up in the faintest smile.

"Yes."

"Who?"

"That is the only problem my husband. The woman I speak of is a slave, the personal servant to Batiatus." Glaber snatched his hands away, his short temper -which he was known for- coming to the forefront.

"A slave? You speak to me about a slave?" He said with disgust.

"She is not just any slave." Ilithyia's voice became more stern and demanding. "Isadora has this power over-"

"Isadora? You call her by her first name?" Wrinkles formed on his forehead in confusion and a mix of anger and frustration.

"I have already spoke to Batiatus about putting her under my care."

"You spoke with him without my consent?" Anger was clearly seen on his face. He pushed the sheets aside and got out of bed, wrapping a robe around himself, Ilithyia quickly followed suit, she was not going to be defeated that easily. She tied her robe around herself and followed briskly behind him as he exited the room.

"We know of his intentions to join politics, Claudius. If we can obtain Isadora all it would take is a small conversation with Magistrate Calavius: convincing him that Batiatus serves no place in politics and that he is a cheat, a dishonorable man, a disgrace to Rome, and eventually must be killed."

"Your words fall on deaf ears!" Glaber barked. "To bring a slave into this household and treat her as a peer? I will not have it."

"Claudius," Ilithyia begged. "Your detest for the Batiatus household is just as strong, if not stronger, than mine. Not to mention that Thracian piece of shit that resides there. If Batiatus is to die then the same will happen to Spartacus and all the other gladiators in the ludus."

Glaber stopped. His wife hesitantly approached him from behind, resting a soft hand on his shoulder. She stepped around him so that he was facing her, hiding as much as she could the satisfaction she was feeling for grabbing his attention. "If one person can convince the most powerful man in the Republic that Batiatus and his ludus should be destroyed, that the two men you despise the most should be put to death, should we not use such a person to mitigate the pain and suffering that they have caused you so much?"

Glaber took a deep breath and exhaled. "To kill Batiatus and Spartacus?" He asked.

"To rid the world of dishonorable, tainted, and destructive men - and to ease your pain."

"You think very highly of her." Glaber stated, his expression relaxing.

"I do not. I see what she is capable of; Isadora can do what other women only dream of."

"Isadora." He said the name as if he were thinking out loud. "I will see her for myself." Ilithyia grinned at the response.

"You will not be disappointed, my husband."

* * *

"Stop Spartacus, we cannot." Isadora warned the man. Spartacus had her pinned against the wall next to where the wine was held. Batiatus wished to speak to him earlier that day and sent her to fetch him. They shared words for a long time and when she was called back in, it was to send him back to his training. Spartacus gripped her body close to his, his hands firmly on her hips. "Stop," She forced out as he left lingering kisses along her neck. "others will see."

"Let them see." He grabbed her from the back of her thighs and hoisted her up, wrapping her legs around the small of his back as he captured her lips with his. The kiss was short lived as Isadora continued to push him away, placing her hands on either side of his face and keeping him an agreeable distance away from her.

"What has come over you?" Her confusion was clear on her face. "Has Cupid missed your heart and shot your head?"

"Perhaps, or maybe Venus is to blame." Spartacus pressed forward, only to come in contact with her index finger.

"Calm yourself, Spartacus. It is broad day light. There will be other moments to do this."

"Is this not a moment?" He replied with a grin. Isadora hid her laugh behind her hand.

"Yes it is, but-"

"Then I will cherish this moment," Spartacus kissed the side of her neck. "enjoy this moment," he left another kiss just below the previous one. "remember this moment," another kiss. "embrace this woman," another kiss. "and make her mine for the taking." He planted one last kiss on her collarbone before looking at her. "Even if there are spectators." Isadora's face immediately became flustered, her face turning a deep shade of pink that she desperately tried to hide. Along with the tinted face, her breathing became heavier and a bit abnormal at his words.

"As I was saying," Isadora smiled as she spoke. "it is a moment, but not the right one."

"Every moment with you, Isadora, is the right moment." Spartacus cupped the side of her face and ran his thumb over her cheek. His words made her heart flutter, she could even hear her heart beat in her ears.

"You are too kind to me."

"No I am not, however," The hand that cupped her face moved to the back of her neck. "let me show you the extent of my kindness." The gladiators lips brushed against her, showing the kindness that he spoke of. Spartacus hesitantly and gently ran his tongue across her bottom lips, asking permission for entrance; Isadora gladly granted it. And with the same hesitation and gentleness, he gave her the most intimate kiss she had ever experienced. The kiss made her legs extremely weak, and they fell from around his waist. Spartacus diligently grabbed her from the back of her thighs and kept her in place. The kiss lasted for what seemed like a millennium, but in a matter of seconds in turned from gentle and passionate, to hungry and intense.

* * *

Ashur crossed his arms over his chest and grinned evilly. To see the two in actions was far more interesting then he thought, but it was very advantages to him. If he had gone to Batiatus with only words and claims of their activities, nothing would be made of it; but, if he told Batiatus that he saw the two first-hand, well that would be a different matter. However, it was a tough situation to be in. The two people just so happened to be masters favorite people . . .so far. Spartacus was bringing in more coin then anyone could every imagine, and Isadora was slowly starting to raise his status with her charm and beauty.

Ashur figured it would only be a matter of time before someone else made a move, so why not it be him? He left the ludus, and headed towards the villa, the last thing he seeing is the Thracians hand moving under Isadora's dress.

* * *

"What a surprise!" Batiatus sat down in the entertainment room, a grin of delight plastered to his face. "I was not aware that you had returned to Rome."

"Yes," Glaber took a sip from his wine. "my return was short notice. Some matters of import arose that require my attention."

"And what would those be?" Batiatus perched his leg on top of his other knee.

"Politics." Glaber glanced at him then looked away nonchalantly. "nothing you would understand though."

"I consider myself a political man, Glaber. Release some of your stress of politics, I ask you." Batiatus hid his anticipation well.

"I have heard much of your celebrations upon my arrival, Batiatus."

"I hope only the good." Batiatus laughed.

"In particular, many have mentioned to me your new slave . . .Isabella, is it?" Glaber tried to sound as disinterested as possible.

"Ah, Isadora! Yes, she has become quite the commodity to me."

"Commodity?" Glaber took another sip from his wine.

"Indeed. I have much to be thankful for because of her charm and intelligence. Her beauty of course as well, but appearances can only get you so far."

"Perhaps. Where is she?"

"She is in the ludus." Ashur emerged from the shadows. He nodded at Glaber then bent next to Batiatus' ear. "There is something that requires your attention." He whispered.

"It can wait." Batiatus replied sternly. In an instant he was on his feet, his arms spread open. "Here she is!" He praised as Isadora emerged into the light. "Returning from her duties I assume. Come, come, come, Isadora." She briskly went next to him, glancing at Ashur as she passed, however, his eyes were fixed on her "lower" regions and he licked his lips. Batiatus sat down and patted the seat next to her. Isadora hesitantly sat down next to him-it was practically forbidden to share a seat with your master, and she knew she would be frowned upon by the others. It didn't help at all that Ashur sat down next to her.

"Isadora I would like to introduce you to Legatus Claudius Glaber. He has been out of Rome of late and has just recently returned."

"And we all celebrate your return, Legatus." Ashur added. Claudius gave Isadora the most agonizingly slow once over, his eyes going to every single pore in her body. Isadora was undeniably a sight and the things he had heard about her seemed to be true thus far, however, he wanted to see what interested his wife so much.

"Leave. I wish to speak to her alone." Glaber demanded. Ashur, Isadora, and Batiatus looked at each other, none of them was really sure of what was going on.

"Pardon me, but I don't believe I heard you." Batiatus replied.

"You heard just fine. Leave us. Both of you." He gestured to Batiatus and Ashur to leave, which they, and everyone else in the room, did reluctantly.

* * *

Spartacus was beyond words. He finally felt that the Gods, in particularly Venus, had blessed him from all of the carnage that had become of his life. During his entire training he could not help but grin; the bond between himself and Isadora was growing and becoming so strong he felt that he could suffocate from it, but if he did it would be a good death. And as he beat and bantered at the wooden post with his fake swords, he remembered what they had done not to long ago. It was the farthest he had gone with Isadora, fervently entering her core with his anticipating fingers, just to gain a sigh of satisfaction from her immediately following the touch. He would please that woman from dusk till dawn if she wanted him to, and even if she didn't, he would anyway. Doctore called for everyone to take a break, it wasn't until then that he realized his heart was racing like a wild horses and that he was sweating like a mad dog. He went to the water jug and drank, and drank, and drank, and drank until eventually Varro came over.

"Do you plan on saving some for everyone else?" He laughed as he took a drink as well. Varro dropped the cup back in the giant jug. "You worked yourself hard today, more than I have seen in the past."

Spartacus dropped the cup in the jug and wiped his forehead. "My spirits are high."

"And what might be the cause of this?" Varro dropped his head in realization and laughed. "Isadora by chance?"

"Isadora," He said the name as if it were a sacred word. "Isadora has brought a new light into my life." Spartacus smiled.

"A new light? How so?"

"I cannot say." Spartacus walked over to the benches and sat down in the shade.

Varro sat down next to him. "Why not?"

"I cannot describe it. Words could would not be enough to explain what has happened; what I feel. Because Isadora is more than words, she's . . .a feeling, an action, a gasp, a scent, an expression even."

"An expression. The same could be said for my wife Aurelia. Without her, my existence is meaningless." Varro slapped his hand down on his friends shoulder. "I assume all men could say the same for their women."

* * *

"My wife shows a keen interest in you, Isadora." Glaber spoke, setting his wine down on the table next to him. "Why is that?"

"You ask a question that is frequently asked of me, Legatus. And I will give you the same answer I have given others in the past. I am unaware of her interests."

"So it seems." Glaber sat more erect. "But you have captured her interest, which is a hard thing to do. Even harder is to keep her interested. However, she believes that you would be a very valuable asset to me, and to herself."

"Why would she believe that?" Isadora's eyes narrowed at him in confusion.

"If you had the opportunity, would you leave?" He asked abruptly.

"What?" Isadora was caught off guard.

"I am offering you freedom, Isadora. A life among real people, not chained to this . . ." His eyes wandered around the room. "dungeon. You can live among the wealthy with everything you desire at your disposal: wine, food, men, parties, even an education if you want."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because I see your potential, and I see what has interested my wife so much, and to say that I follow her interest is belittling. You can achieve so much, if put under the right care, not oppressed by a lanista who keeps you directly within arms reach. I will speak with Batiatus in two days, regarding your transfer from here to my abode-willing or not. But I wish to make this easy for you. You have two days to decided whether or not you would like to stay with my wife and I." Glaber stood up. "A life of freedom, or a life of slavery? It's your choice." Without another word the Legatus left, bidding no one farewell. Isadora sank into the seat, freedom was within hands reach, but for the sake of freedom, was she willing to give up Spartacus?

* * *

**AN:** Hope you enjoyed this one, please please review! Thanks :D


	10. Chapter 10: Leaving

**A/N:** Hello my readers! First and foremost I sincerely apologize for the wait, school has been extremely crazy and lately I do not have enough time to update (and when I do have time, I have no idea what to write about!) so please be passionate with me over the next couple of months, i'm trying to update as quickly as I can and when time permits, so please please please do not be upset with me. ** Secondly, thank you all for your amazing reviews! They are seriously the only things pushing me through this and keeping me motivated so thank you so very very much!** Well, I am going to stop talking and let you get on to what you really want to do (which is read this chapter) so thank you all and please enjoy :)

**Chapter 10: Leaving**

Isadora's hands felt clammy and dry, which was unusual since Batiatus gave her a lotion that would keep her hands soft and gentle, that is how they should always be, he had said to her. Even though she put a descent amount on, they still felt harsh and laden. Her throat was dry, her heart pound in her chest like battle drums, booming away. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears. Legatus was to blame for her current state, and slightly herself as well. Saying words like freedom and liberty were dangerous in a ludus filled with nothing but slaves, punishment for even thinking it was horrible. So for Glaber to offer her freedom, under Batiatus' own home, was ludicrous. However, Isadora could not stop thinking about it. Freedom was just within arms reach, a word away, a step away. She could be free of the ludus, of Batiatus, of Ashur . . .of Spartacus.

"Do I want to give him up?" She said at the top of the stairs just before entering the ludus. "Am I willing to leave this place and leave him here to rot?" She clamped her hands together as a means to keep from shaking. Her emotions were scrambled together, she had no idea what to think. "Would he do the same if our roles had been reversed? If he had been offered freedom instead of I?' Isadora took a deep breath and counted to three. Once she reached three she was going to go down the stairs, where she knew Spartacus would be waiting. Once she counted to three she was going to tell him about the offer. Once she counted to three, the gears were going to be set in motion and she would see how the gladiator would react.

She went down the stairs and entered the ludus; the gate was still unlocked because late night training was going on, so she new Spartacus and every other gladiator would be down there. The moon was at it's highest point in the sky, which was when they decided to meet, as Isadora went to Spartacus' room. There was hardly anyone out there, so she figured that the training ended not to long ago and that everyone had retired to their appropriate rooms to sleep. She quickly scurried across the field and lightly knocked on his bedroom door. Seconds later it opened, slightly ajar with his figure obscuring the room. His chest rose as he smiled and took her hand, leading her in before closing the door behind him.

Isadora did not have much time to take the room in since Spartacus immediately bombarded her with kisses that she was hesitant to take.

"I've missed you." He said between kisses as he picked her up and pressed her up against the wall. Isadora kissed him back, enjoying the momentary pleasure, feeling his warm radiating skin under her hands. The moment intensified as the kiss depend, both battling for dominance the Isadora always gave into, and as Spartacus' hand traced back under her dress, receiving a moan in return. It wasn't until this moment that she started to push away: turning her head to the side, pressing her hands against his collar bone lightly, trying to speak.

"Spartacus, stop. I must tell you something." Isadora said, trying to hold back her sounds of pleasure as he continued his movements under her dress and kissing her neck.

"Can it not wait?"

"No." She managed to drag out.

"Just a moment longer." Spartacus bit the side of her neck and inserted another finger, which became a bit overwhelming for Isadora. She moaned out his name and clutched him, shaking from the touch. He captured her lips in his again, stifling her moans and winces of pain as he continued to add another, carefully stretching her out and preparing her. A shock of pressure came through her, pushing the Thracian back with her balled fists.

"I have been offered freedom!" Isadora blurted out. The room went still. The pressure stopped along with his fingers. She looked up at him, expression nervous and scared. "I have been offered freedom." She repeated. Spartacus' expression was a mirror of hers, confused, surprised, indecisive. She could hear him swallow hard as he remove his fingers and set her down on her feet. He took a step back.

"Apologeze." He said after a long moment of silence. "I do not know how to respond." Spartacus said honestly. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked at her. "You must be very important to Batiatus."

"It is not Batiatus who offered it to me." She replied.

His brows furrowed together and his eyes narrowed at her. "Then who?"

"Claudius Glaber." Spartacus momentarily stopped breathing, his eyes searching randomly in a frenzy. Isadora could not imagine where his thoughts were, since she had no idea who the man was until then. His lips curled into a snarl as breath returned to him and began stuttering in a fit of outrage.

"G-G-Glaber?" The Thracian slammed his fist against the wall, directly nest to Isadora's head. She shriveled underneath his body, which seemed so massive and overpowering at the time. "Have you any idea, what he has done to me?"

"N-no." Her voice was a whisper. Spartacus struggled to control his tone.; it was not her fault that Glaber approached her with the proposition. Spartacus took a deep breath and steadied himself.

"He is the reason I am here." He replied. She looked up at him, her eyes wide.

"I did not know," She bit her bottom lip in confusion. There was silence as both soaked in the new information. Isadora was completely unaware that Spartacus' current position was do to the man that offered her freedom. But now she knew that both men despised each other from his reaction and that the situation was for more complicated than she could ever imagine.

"I do not want you near him." Spartacus spoke gently, breaking the silence. "Glaber cannot be trusted."

"You are asking me to give up this opportunity." Isadora replied, looking up at him. Spartacus cupped her face in his hand softly.

"I do not want to see you harmed."

"Well tell me, what would you do? What would you do if you had been offered freedom instead of I?" Isadora asked. Spartacus thought for a moment.

"I cannot answer that." He said, removing his hand and looking at the ground.

"And neither could I." Isadora grasped his chin in her hand and forced him to look at her. "It does not matter who presents the offer, Spartacus. The fact is, the offer was presented. Now what are we to do?" Her voice was low and soft as she spoke. Spartacus thought, looking around the room then meeting her eyes. Taking her hands in his he spoke:

"To ask you to stay would be selfish."

"No it wouldn't." Isadora gripped his hands.

"Yes it would," He paused, taking a deep breath. "You will take his offer and be free of these walls that contain you. I would rather see you out there: in the city, among people, living life and knowing that the Gods have blessed you, than being locked in here, with nothing but animals at every turn waiting for you."

"The city is only a larger ludus, Spartacus. With just as many animals . . .and you not being there to protect me." Isadora kissed the back of his hand.

"Do as I say, Isadora." Spartacus let go of her hands and embraced her mightily. "You will be cared for better than here, you will live a life that you deserve, and I will find comfort knowing that you are no longer in this wretched place."

"Am I not replacing one evil for another?" Isadora asked, her voice muffled against his chest.

* * *

The Next Day:

Spartacus dug his nail into the tarnished wood of the table, listening to the clamor training at hand. His mind was everywhere except in his head; what we he supposed to do? Isadora had been given an opportunity, one that never came around in the ludus, even to the most respected and trusted slaves like Doctore. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, his chest rising and falling like the shape of a mountain.

"This is strange." Varro observed, with the same smile on his face like any other day. He sat across from Spartacus at the table and gestured at his nail digging into the wood. "Are you that bored with this Champion?" He chuckled and adjusted in the seat. When Spartacus did not reply, he waved his hand in front of him. "Hello?"

Spartacus looked at him for the first time and clamped both his hands together on the table. "Varro," he started. "I did not see you here."

"Really? So this entire time I have been talking to myself?" He laughed. Spartacus did not laugh. Varro recognized his distraught expression immediately and sighed. There could only be one source of his distraction.

"What has she done now?" He leaned back slightly, waiting to hear what his friend was about to say. Spartacus paused before he spoke.

"She is leaving." He said simply. Varro stifled a laugh in leaned in closer to Spartacus.

"I would hardly call going out to market as leaving, Spartacus." He patted his shoulder and prepared to stand up, but stopped when Spartacus spoke again:

"She has been offered freedom . . .by Glaber." Varro's breath caught in his throat, thinking about what he just said. He sat back down, carefully, and lowered his voice to a whisper.

"How?"

"I do not know."

"Glaber?" Varro couldn't grasp the idea. "but why not Batiatus? How would Glaber even hear about Isadora?"

"That is unknown to me as well."

"What are you going to do? Have you shared words?"

"Yes." Spartacus ran his hands across his face and looked at his friend. "I told her to go; to ask her to stay would have been selfish."

"But now she is leaving you for Glaber." Varro stated. Spartacus slammed his hand on the table and glared at him.

"No she is not. She is leaving for freedom, not for him."

"What does it matter?" Varro narrowed his eyes at him. "Either way she will no longer be within your grasp." He chided him. "I understand that it is a difficult position be in-"

"You cannot even begin to understand." The Thracian hissed, his hands clenching into fists.

"You're right, even so, it is difficult position to be in, there is nothing you can do." Varro moved in closer, lowering his voice. "And you know Glaber, he will take what he wants without anyone's permission. Not to mention if this, giving Isadora to the Legatus, gets Batiatus on good terms with him, do you think he will not hesitate to hand her over?"

* * *

The Next Day:

"Legatus!" Batiatus raised his hands in the air at Glabers' sudden reappearance. "Two appearances in only a week, you honor me with your presence." He bowed slightly to the man.

"I did not come here for you, Batiatus." Glaber replied harshly. The smile on the Lanistas' face disappeared, replaced with a grim, down turned frown. At that moment Batiatus realized just how much he hated Glaber. Every moment with him was filled with detest and a means for some sort of gain. Not to mention the constant insults and badgering he received from the arrogantly titled man that made him to unleash his over enthusiastic fury on him; however, Batiatus knew that one day the Legatus would get what was coming to him. Batiatus swallowed hard, masking his disdain, and folded his hands in front of him.

"Then what, may I ask, brings us the pleasure of your company?"

"Isadora." Glaber said. The room went quite. The servants shared glances with each other, Lucretia, who was standing next to her husband, slightly nudged him, and Ashur, who stood behind Batiatus, cleared his throat.

"Isadora?" Batiatus asked. "For what reason?" Glaber ignored the question and walked passed them, leading himself into the villa. Batiatus followed briskly behind him, trying to remain calm in the confusing and frustrating situation.

"Isadora will be leaving with me today," Glaber spoke as we walked. "I want her found and brought here now."

"For what purpose?" Batiatus struggled to keep his cool. "Isadora is one of my best servants if not most respected in the entire ludus, what business do you have with her?"

"That is none of your concern." Glaber said.

"There you are wrong," Batiatus grabbed him by the shoulder, stopping him and turning the Legatus to face him. "She is my-"

Glaber stepped to him quickly, his face a few inches from Batiatus. "Know your place Lanista." He sneered. "If you wish to continue training these animals for a living and enjoying the spoils of your wealth, then I suggest you hand her over. . .now." Batiatus swallowed hard again. He knew better than to make enemies with Claudius Glaber, but reluctantly surrendered to the man. He gestured to Ashur.

"Bring her up."

* * *

"I do not know when you shall see me again." Isadora looked down at their intertwined fingers, trying to put the rough feel of his hand to memory. She knew that Glaber was coming, it was only a matter of when. Her heart pound in her chest like a stampede of rampaging animals, her throat was dry and she felt extremely parched. The fear of the unknown gripped her as she tried to grasp onto what little sanity she had left, Spartacus being the only thing keeping her from falling down.

"Soon." Spartacus soothed her, running the back of his free hand down the length of her face. "Soon." Both took a deep breath in unison, trying to relax and relish the moment.

"I will come back for you." Isadora spoke. "I will. If you do not become free, I will get money and buy you from Batiatus."

"Shh, do not say such things." Spartacus embraced her, gripping her close to him. "You will do not such thing."

"I will," Isadora looked at him. "Who are you to tell me I cannot?" Spartacus smiled at her and rolled his eyes. That was the Isadora he knew. He gripped her tighter than carefully released her, sharing a passionate kiss that was exciting and heart-breaking at the same time; both of them knew it was a good-bye kiss, and that there was a very good chance they would never see each other again, but neither said it out loud.

Footsteps were heard, descending the ludus stairs. This kiss ended to quickly and Spartacus was gone as quickly, leaving Isadora alone by the wine jugs, feeling the extremely cold air against her skin. She looked up and saw Ashur, giving her a slow once over with a smirk.

"Follow me." He said.

Glaber crossed his arms over his chest and looked at Isadora, she was undeniably a sight, but he knew there was much more to her than that. He knew, from their last conversation, that she was very incisive, and wise beyond her years. She had an open mind and was perceptive to everything around her. For some reason he felt that she would make a good wife, not to him of course since he had Ilithyia, but perhaps to a general, or someone with a high status in the military. He pushed the thought aside and decided to save it for another day.

"Isadora, have you thought about my proposition?" He asked.

"Yes." She replied as if nothing was wrong.

"And?"

"I will go with you." A small smile of satisfaction crawled on his lips as he held his hand out to her. Slowly, and with reluctance he noticed, Isadora took his hand and stood next to him, still holding it. Glaber then brought his attention to Batiatus, who struggled to hide his glare of hatred.

"Batiatus, pleasure doing business with you." He said in a sarcastic tone. When the Lanista did no reply, Glaber smirked and turned around, Isadora by his side.

* * *

Isadora exited the villa, the first time in a while since she left, and was blinded by the sun. Glaber hoisted himself up on a large horse and lent his hand out to her. She took it and with the help of one of his servants, got on the horse, sitting sideways, both legs dangling over one side of the steed. She wrapped her arms around his waist, a gesture she hated to have to do, and sat close behind him on the saddle. At that moment Glaber said something to Batiatus and his wife; however, she did not pay attention for Ashur exited the villa and looked up at her with a conniving and scheming expression with the most intimidating grin that made her breath catch in her chest.

* * *

**A/N:** I really hope you liked this one, I'll update as soon as I can, and please continue showing your support and reviewing. Thank you XD


	11. Chapter 11: Foreign

**My sincerest apologies to everyone! I need not intend for such an extended hiatus. Please do not be upset. But thank you everyone that has shown your support and reviewed up to this point, i very much appreciate it and it undeniably keeps me motivated. In addition** **I decided to change the story tense, so it will no longer be in 3****rd****, and will now be in 1****st****. I recently got into the habit of writing in 1****st**** because of my English class, and I can't help it now. I hope this doesn't make much of a difference for anyone. Anywho please enjoy, thanks**

**Chapter 11: Foreign**

I felt as though the world had stopped beneath my feet. That the gravel that once crunched against my sandals had transformed, crushed into grains of sand that I sank into with every step; trudging through half-heartedly. With every step it took the strength of entire armies to move me, with every breath it took a the speed of hundreds of stampeding horses to push me through it. I was in a desert. Surrounded by nothing. Felling nothing . . .only emptiness. Sweat beaded down my face as the sun burned me with his heat, fixing a piece of glass right above me, focusing all of his heat and rays on me. I looked around. Nothing but massive sand dunes surrounded me. Not a cactus in sight, nor even the tiniest jet black scorpion. Even the animals were smart enough not to come out in that heat. I kept my head low. My eyes closed and feet, no longer having the strength to detach themselves from the heavy sand, resorted to dragging. I was in that desert. I experienced it. I was stuck in it. And there was nothing I could do about it.

Something began to echo in the sky, like the reverberation of thunder as its sound reached further and further across the sky until there was nothing. I looked up, away from the sun, hands hanging over my eyes for minor shade. There was nothing. I saw nothing. I could see no one. But I could hear the voice. I could hear it saying my name, calling for my attention. Who was it? I sounded so familiar. Was it him? Was it the voice I desperately wanted to hear speak my name? Calling for my attention?

"Isadora!" I jumped awake, my eyes blinking rapidly from the daze. I didn't have to look around to realize where I was. The voice was confirmation enough. "What is happening with you?" She asked, sitting down next to me. "Your attention wanders much of late only to be replaced with bemusement."

"Apologeze, Ilithyia. I do not know what came over me." I sat up and grip the wine glass in my hand.

"This happens much, does it not?" Aemilia asked. I looked across from me and saw Caecilia and Aemilia sitting on the couch opposite of me, and to their right, or my left, there was Licinia, lounging about by herself. When did they arrive?

"Apparently!" Licinia interjected. "What else could be expected of her? I mean after all she was a slave at that awful ludus with those awful beasts, how could she not be somewhat introverted?" Licinia took a sip of her wine and ran her finger across the rim.

"Isadora is still not used to being served and not serving. It is a huge adjustment to make. Before she kneeled before people, now they kneel before her." Caecilia grinned.

"It is her beauty that is the cause of this of course." Licinia chided. "If it had been any other then they would hardly be in the same position." She laughed.

"True, Licinia," Ilithyia spoke, "however, I believe it is her words that capture attention." She place her forefinger and middle finger and pressed them under my chin, lifting my head up in her direction. "For if not for her words she would not have convinced my husband so quickly of why she was worthy of our affection." She smiled.

"And our affection we are glad to give to such an exceptional woman." Aemilia said.

"Yes, is she not the epitome of Venus herself?" Caecilia complimented.

"I would never dare to venture that far, Caecilia." Ilithyia said, picking up a glass of wine from the table in the middle of the room and drinking from it.

"What did you say to our dear Ilithyia's husband, Isadora?" Licinia asked.

"Please, do tell." Aemilia spoke. I watched as the four women that sat before me leaned in closer, eager to hear what I had to say. Why were they so interested in me? Was it because Ilithyia was? Was it because Glaber was? Or was it because I was a slave? "Go on!" Aemilia barked in excitement. "Do not leave us in anticipation any longer."

"Well . . ." I said hesitantly, trying to recall what we spoke about what seemed like a lifetime ago, when in reality it was only a few months. "We spoke of many things: him, myself, politics, my situation at the ludus, his position as Legatus . . .whether I found him intimidating."

"And?" Licinia pressed, silently asking what I said in response. I waved my glass back and forth slowly, recalling the conversation.

"I said no," a mixture of gasps and giggles filled the room. "I told him 'Intimidation is power, and I will not allow anyone to have anymore power over me than they already do.'"

"And his response?" Ilithyia asked, looking at me curiously.

"None, only a nod of approval. Sometime later he acknowledged my responses as wisdom beyond my years; however, I easily corrected him," I set my wine on the table. "saying that it was not wisdom, just emotional. It is how I felt, and I stated it. For to have wisdom is to have many experiences, and I have not had many."

"Said beautifully, Isadora. Truly." Caecilia raised her glass toward me. I craned a smile and nodded in her direction.

"No wonder why Claudius liked her, she is the first to speak with a bold tongue and not insult!" Licinia laughed. "You must tell me how you do it." She pressed.

"Honesty, Licinia." I replied honestly, for I knew that honesty was always the best, no matter what. "By simply speaking your mind in an intellectual and respectable manner, you would be amazed at what could be achieved."

"I could only imagine how horrible that must have been in that wretched ludus, with those animals. So stifling not being able to say exactly what's on your mind. What with power and all restraining you." Caecilia added.

"Apparently that does not matter to Spartacus." Licinia grinned. The mere mention of his name made my heart stop. A lump suddenly formed in my throat and I found it difficult to speak past. I knew my expression had turn sullen and quickly masked it with a smile, lifting the sagging cheeks and drooping eye lids of pain. I took my wine again and finished it quickly, moisture returning to my mouth and the lump slowly diminishing. As I was focusing on refocusing myself the conversation had escalated without my knowing.

"What was Spartacus like, Isadora?" Licinia asked. I could see the overzealous interest in her eyes. I stopped my hands from clenching around the metal cup. Of all gladiators to be interested in, it had to be Spartacus. Was there no other that caught her gaze?

"Excuse me?" My tone became a bit more harsher than I liked . . .and the definitely noticed. The girls slightly leaned back, glancing at each other.

"Apologeze," Licinia said quickly. "I did not mean to offend. I thought sense, the ludus is so far behind you now, you would be more willing to talk about it. About Spartacus."

I stood up, placing my empty cup on the table.

"Two months, Licinia." I said. "That is how long I have been gone. And every night I have horrible dreams of that place. So have I really put it behind me? When it haunts my dreams and constantly consumes my thoughts? When my habits of servitude batter at me? When I feel so out of place here, because I am not kneeling before you? Have I put it behind me, Licinia? You try being a slave for nearly a year and then be thrust into this elaborate lifestyle, see how you handle it."

I left the lounging room quickly, going to my room. I had to get out of there. There was no way I could talk about Spartacus without something slipping out, I didn't trust myself. I felt the tears forming when I reached my room. I couldn't talk about Spartacus, if I did I would remember his face, his smile, his warm embrace, his gentle lips, his beautiful eyes, and I could not bear that. Forget, that was the only thing I could do.

It was not long before I heard the familiar tap on my bedroom door. I said nothing, as always, and he entered, as always. Glaber looked at me then took a deep breath before closing the door behind him and sitting at the edge of my bed. I leaned against the headboard and wrapped my arms around my knees, not daring to look at him. Silence. It was frequent that he would do things like that, just enter my room, sit on the bed, eventually lay back, and just stay there, not saying anything, The situation presented itself as such as he laid down.

"Something weighs on your mind." I said, looking at him. He turned his head to look at me but said nothing. "I can tell." I added.

"And what is it that weighs on yours?" He asked. I looked around the room and huffed. It was so foreign to me. The pearly white walls, the translucent curtains, the king sized bed with more than enough blankets then I would ever need, and the mountain of pillows behind me, made me feel out of place. Glabers' abode was far more glamorous than anything I would ever need.

"Nothing." I lied. He sat up and turned to me. There was still much distance between us.

"You have all the right in the world to feel the way you do." Glaber said.

"And what would that be?" I challenged. He gave a smirk that quickly disappeared.

"Misplaced. You feel that you do not belong here."

"I don't." My voice was stern in the statement. He nodded his head left and right, contemplating the thought.

"Perhaps not. Then again, perhaps you do. Isadora, you have only been here a short time, I do not expect you to adjust quickly."

"It's not just adjusting, Claudius." My voice became softer. "Ever since Carthage was destroyed I have been a servant to others, making a living from it. Ilithyia, Licinia, Aemilia . . .you . . .no nothing of servitude. It's degrading, and frustrating, and makes one feel insignificant and unimportant. Where as you and Ilithyia have always lived this life, being served, doing as you please. Not having to life a finger for others. You don't understand." I pulled my knees closer to my chest. Glaber scooted closer to me hesitantly, sitting at the end of my feet. He rested his hands on mine, slightly pressing them against my biceps.

"You are right." His voice was soft. "I do not understand. But I hope in due time you could help me to. I may have lived this way my entire life, but that does not mean I am incapable of appreciating truths about life others have discovered." He paused. "I have neglected you." He touched my cheek gently. I said nothing. He sighed and got up from the bed. "I apologize for not recognizing your frustration sooner." After that he left. I will always be frustrated. Always.


	12. Chapter 12: Tongue of a Snake

**Chapter 12: Tongue of a Snake**

I thrust forward, wooden sword in hand, wooden shield fixed against my arm. My opponent stepped back, one foot behind the other, causing me to miss. I hardly ever missed. He raised his sword above his head and thrust it down, taking a large stride forward, hoping to collide with my head; however, I was too quick. I bent down into a forward lung, forcing my shield above my head with swinging my sword to my opponents exposed legs. With one hard hit to left leg his knees buckled and he stumbled back to the ground, trying to force the pain away. I went at him, swinging my sword this way and that, only to collide with his shield that he had placed in front of his face. In one quick stride I stepped to his side, kicking him, causing him to roll across the dirt, eating it. He panted on his stomach, and at that moment, I brought my sword down, with as much force as I could muster, on his exposed back. He screamed in pain, a small amount of blood gushing from his mouth.

I stepped back, gripping and releasing the sword in my hand. He had reached his limit. I wiped my mouth and went to the water jug, dropping my sword and shield on the bench.

"Do not over exert yourself." Doctore approached me. I splashed the water over my face and rinsed out my dry mouth.

"Your concern is not desired." I didn't look at him as I washed my dusty hands.

"Spartacus, today you fight on the sand. You shall need your strength."

"For what? Why should I need it?" I barked, finally looking at him, my eyes narrowed. "Why should I try when I have nothing to fight for?" When Doctore did not answer I ignored him, sitting down on the bench closing my eyes.

"She will be there. Perhaps that will motivate you." He said before turning away. I had heard that many times, that Isadora would be at the arena, watching me. But I never saw her. Instead, when I fought, I hoped that she was in the stands with the regular people, watching me, praying to the Gods for my success, helping me forward. But that was just wishful thinking. If I knew Glaber, which I did, he would never allow her to go to the arena and watch the men she once cared for die suddenly.

My chest heaved up and down as I tried to relax, trying to push away the thoughts of Isadora; however, that could not be helped when a servant came to me, taking me to Batiatus. When I entered, Batiatus was at his desk, reading a piece of parchment. He gestured for the servant to leave, not taking his eyes off that parchment, then when he was finished, looked up at me.

"Spartacus. You look well." His voice was pure business. Batiatus stood up and stepped around his desk, leaning against the edge.

"I feel well." I replied.

"Good, good, good. Today is a very important day for all of us." Batiatus began. "If you win today's match, then you will go head-to-head with the top gladiators in all of Rome. A great honor." He began to pace around the room. "And who ever shall win will become the Champion of Rome, and bring great wealth to the ludus that he serves. Do you understand, Spartacus?"

"Yes, Dominus." He nodded his head in approval.

"So much wealth that a man could buy the fucking heavens! Ten times over!" Batiatus laughed, reaching his hands to the sky as if it were tangible. I didn't care for wealth, fortune, fame, glory, or anything that came with being the Champion . . .being a gladiator. All I desired was to see her face once more, whether it be behind a locked gate, or a whimsical glance in a direction she just so happened to be in, or her, standing in the box, looking down at the arena, watching me. Batiatus noticed my sullen expression that I quickly masked with hardness. He went to me, placing a hand on my shoulder. "With that wealth a man could buy his freedom." He said simply. My expression changed to confusion. Was he suggesting that I would be released if I became Champion of Rome?

"With the amazing fortune that would come from receiving such a glorious title, the Champion would no longer be needed. In fact," Batiatus looked around his office, "the ludus would no longer serve a purpose." He patted my shoulder one last time. "Get out of here, rest for the remainder of the day, so that you will be fit for the arena." He waved me away and I left, escorted by a guard.

My thoughts were filled with what Batiatus said, for he could not have been any plainer. If I won, and became the Champion of Rome, Batiatus would set me free, along with all the others, and leave the ludus as an abandoned building, only filled with horrible memories. I could have my life back, I could have a future, I- . . .I could have Isadora. The thought of holding her in my arms once more, feeling the warmth of her skin, the taste of her lips, the sweetness of her voice, my heart pained and fluttered at the thought. She had been gone for nearly two months, with not but a whisper to ease my tormented mind. I had not know how she was fairing, in the house of the Legatus, or how her superior company treated her. The thought of her, sitting amongst the beasts that watch brother kill brother for sport, was sickening.

I leaned against the cold gates, pressing my head against the bars, cooling my scorched mind. Was no sooner when Varro stood next to me, mocking my position.

"What pleasures did the snakes tongue unravel this time?" He asked with a grin.

"The snake has grown bold," I tilted my head toward him, "he seeks coin."

"No surprise there." Varro huffed.

"And blood." This seemed to get his attention. Varro turned toward me, leaning against the gate with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Is his thirst not quenched?"

"None could satiate the appetite. He aspires to win the tournament." I replied. Varro recoiled slightly at the mention of it.

"Tournament? But it is not due for months."

"Yet he has heard otherwise?" I questioned.

"The bastard wishes victory?" He was finally beginning to put the pieces together.

"With victory coin will fall into his quick hand . . .along with freedom." I said quietly so that only he could hear.

"Do not play me a fool, Spartacus." Varro replied sternly.

"No fools stand among us. Only the snake who tests the ground with his slithering tongue before treading."

"The snake is cunning. Freedom, you say."

"Yes, freedom. You may yet hold Aurelia in your arms."

"And, Isadora?" He asked. I stilled momentarily, not know how to reply.

"She lingers."

"The mind will find ease soon." Varro replied, patting my shoulder.

"No word has come. I fear by the hour my insanity grows into a caged lion."

"Then release it, on the sands. The madness will mitigate."

"Not until she is in my arms once more."

* * *

IPOV:

"How cold grips me with his breath." I clutched the blankets around me, willing the warmth from my body to envelope me. Since Glaber left, my thoughts went blank, my mind a black curtain of empty thoughts and distorted imaged. However, as time passed, I allowed my mind to wander:

"I am free, but what has become of Isadora? Here, I lounge in this house, surrounded by false company that speak with the tongue of a snake, amusing themselves with the whimsical and impudent lives of others. Was I source of such talk previously? Was pleasure once found from my pain? My insignificance? I see it so. For why spare me? Beautiful, wise, gracious, Isadora?" I said sarcastically.

"Why divert pain of humiliation with sweet words and counterfeit compliments? Why speak ill of kind and gentle, Isadora? It sickens me that men and women alike share such thoughts. Do not spare me pain or suffering, for I have endured. I have fought the mountains and the desert, I have quarreled with the likes of insanity and poverty. I have deceived those that sought deception on me. Yet here I stand, victorious, holding my head high in the likes of others that did not deserve the kindness I shed upon them." I sat up.

"However, where has that Isadora fled? The fearless, Isadora. The one that sought strength from others? But my mind fleets; there are no others. The world was simpler then. Man and woman could grasp one another unconditionally; no care about what surrounded them, or who harm was intended upon. Lost in each other, yet found. Perhaps I was fool then as well," I scuffed, "lost in the blindness of my affection, I could not see the impending destruction. The destruction that I now live. But to say all is bad would be speaking with false tongue. Jupiter and Venus have struck me with love. A love that seems so ill contented. A love that seems tragic. But are not all great loves tragic? For him to be separated from her and her from him would be just as horrible as them being together, would it not? Drowning in a quiet pool together, with no intent to break surface." I laid back down and closed my eyes.

"My heart lies in that pool, with Spartacus. How I remember the planes of his face so clearly. The sound of his voice. The touch of his hands. Greed has consumed me. Yet pain takes its place. For here I am, in the abode of the man that put Spartacus in shackles, and I have done nothing? Madness fills his mind, this I know, for it does mine. I have betrayed him. Lost hope, banished faith, expelled conviction. Yet love seeps in my bones, steeling me. It is this that I give myself to. This reassured affection that steers me to course, only to hope that it will be reciprocated once destination is reached. Once Spartacus is reached. I shall go to him, masked by darkness, but lead by Apollo. I shall go to him and relish in him."


	13. Chapter 13: Old Friends

**Chapter 13: Old Friends**

"Isadora," I came from my blank mind, gripping the glass of wine in my hand as Ilithyia spoke my name. How I detested her. Her lingering walk, false smile, acute deception; however, in the midst of that detest there was a hint of thankfulness. She had released me from my bonds of servitude from Batiatus . . .only to place me into more sophisticated and complicated services. I pushed the thoughts aside. My mouth became parched suddenly so I finished my cup.

"Yes, Ilithyia?" I smiled. She came over, taking the wine jug in hand and pouring me another glass. "Gratitude." I drank some.

"Isadora," Ilithyia set the jug down on the table, "you know that I am very fond of our friendship."

"And I am grateful for the opportunity." I leaned against the table. Her eyes never met mine, and I found this curious because whenever she spoke, it was with pure conviction and undeterred eye contact. Instead they trailed over the surface of the table, as did her fingers. A moment passed before either of us spoke. "Do nerves ensnare the tongue?"

"Yes," she gave a weak smile, "only to stifle my purpose."

"Then see it untangled." I grasped her hand in mine. "Broach the subject."

"The evening is young and tedium has filled me. I would have it that we go to the arena to cure such a thing."

"To cure tedium? But was it not your husbands word that forbid me to go?" I asked. Ilithyia stepped to me, placing her hands on either shoulder, her body pressed slightly against mine. The candles flickered, and dimmed slightly.

"Isadora," her voice was soft, "my husband attends more important matters beyond Capua. His return is not expected until late."

"Words travel quic-" She stopped me, pressing the pad of her forefinger against my lips, before I could finish.

"Not if they are unspoken." She removed her finger and placed her hand again on my shoulder. However, it did not stay there. It slithered across my collar bone, ghosting up my neck, then stopping at my cheeks. "I find that even I am entranced." she whispered. His eyes wandered the dimensions of my face, finally falling on my lips. I felt her weight shift, her body leaning more towards me, her head tilting to the side. The padding of her thumb ran across my bottom lip. "How many men have kissed these lips?" She asked in wonder.

"Ilithyia," at the sound of my voice she snapped out of her trance, looking into my eyes for the first time. For a moment she just stood there, looking at me. Then, she registered what she had almost done and stepped back. Her face became flushed and her breathing heaved suddenly.

"Apologies."

"Madam," Ilithyia jerked in the direction the voice came from. The servant looked frazzled and nervous. "Apologies for interrupting, but the carriage awaits."

"Perfect!," she was relieved at the distraction. "Let us take our leave." She hiked her dress up before quickly leaving to the carriage, brushing past the servant, not sparing a second glance at me. What had just happened? Had Ilithyia just . . .come on to me? For the lack of a better term. I did not know what to make of this, and instead pushed it aside, knowing that she had no intent on discussing the situation at the moment or perhaps at any given time. I went to the carriage, she was already seated on the left side, so I sat fixed on the right, my body pressed against the door. She told the driver to go and then we were off, without a word.

I felt extremely out of place once we arrived to the arena. Many extravagant people of status had attended for the sake of the tournament to see which gladiator would eventually be representing Capua. I had never been to the arena before and was surprised and how it looked. It was massive: a giant circle, filled with what seemed like hundreds of stands barely able to hold the vehement crowed. The balcony was large as well, it had been expanded just for the tournaments sake I had heard.

As I entered the foyer with Ilithyia, she grasped my hands in hers and gave me a confident smile.

"Do not fear these figures of status; they do not know your history, this I promise you."

"It is not their judgment that concerns me." I replied honestly. In fact it was that I did not fit in with such a crowed. I did not know the proper etiquette or knowledge to converse with such a prestigious and diverse population. Ilithyia looped her arm in mine.

"Walk with purpose." She then took a step and I followed suit. I was immediately overwhelmed by the number of people. So many in fine dresses and colorful gowns it would make ones head spin. My nerves were up; however, I had heard that I performed much better when I was nervous. At this point I had to agree, because many people began conversation and my tongue flowed easily.

"I hear you are friends with good Batiatus?" An older man named Acestes asked me. Ilithyia had gone and spoke with other people. I saw her glance over at me then returned her attention to her company. This gave me a moment to think of a response.

"Friend? What is a friend, but a companion to help one gain advantage in self proposed ambitions?" I replied with a grin. The man laughed and tilted his glass of wine at me.

"True, but even friends bring wisdom to such ambitions."

"Only if it is sought. For wisdom is not wisdom unless it is heeded."

"I do agree." He laughed. "Batiatus teaches you such things?"

"No, I simply see the world for what it is."

"And speak it clearly." He added.

"Truthfully." I corrected. "So that others may come to terms with denial." I said. He grinned at the response and finished his wine.

"Are your thoughts always thus?"

"No, for if they were, political office would be my position." I joked.

"Perhaps so." His expression became serious. "If not for the law; however, I am assistant to Magistrate Calavius, I believe he would show interest in your words."

"The Magistrate?" I asked. Acestes lowered himself so that he whispered in my ear.

"He is surrounded by fools that feed him lies and have been tainted by greed." He stood erect. "I believe hearing an . . .outside thought would rationalize him."

"I see. Men become who they surround themselves with." I said.

"And he is becoming weak." Acestes smiled and handed his glass to a servant. "I will provide audience with Magistrate Calavius." He said. "Bring your brilliant tongue once received."

"Of course." I smiled.

"Apologies, but my wife awaits. Until then, Isadora."

"Until then, Acestes." I replied. He left diligently, seeking out his wife in the massive crowed, eventually finding her. She was a beautiful woman, as was everyone in the foyer. I grabbed a glass of water from a servant, feeling suddenly parched.

"The assistant to the Magistrate himself, you are moving up, Isadora." He said. I immediately recognized the voice and almost crushed the glass in my hand with my now tightening grip. However, I relaxed it as I turned around.

"Ashur."

"It pleases to hear I have not been forgotten." he grinned; oh how I wished to smack it off his face.

"How could I forget?" I stepped closer to him. "After all your deception is what lead me to my current state, is it not?"

"A state that is much deserved." He smirked.

"But not desired." I added.

"Very well; however, you and I share the status now."

"As equals? Hardly." I chided. "You are still nothing less than the dirt beneath my feet."

"Then tread upon me with heavenly feet, for to be touched by you would be divine."

"You know nothing of my touch." I hissed. "And never shall."

"Oh contraire." Ashur stepped to me, his body barely brushing mine. "The feel of your lips, the touch of your skin. I know much of this."

"Only in dreams."

"Dreams that consume me every night."

"Then I would see them removed." I replied.

"Only to be replaced with real lips and real skin." Ashur leered. He brushed a stray hair from my cheeks, pushing it behind my ear. "Tell me, how do you fair?"

"Excuse me?"

"The Gods have shed much upon you in only a few months. But at a price. To leave Spartacus, I could onl-"

"Watch your tongue, Ashur." I chided. He gave a weak smirk at the response.

"Perhaps he will be removed from thoughts today," he grabbed the glass of water from my hand and drank it down, "after all, Spartacus will fight many, there is no guarantee of his victory this time." Ashur smirked and have me back the glass before walking off, giving a lingering glance over his shoulder and disappearing. Anger consumed me as I continued to look in the direction he had gone, my mind so flooded with emotions and thoughts that I had not heard a scream until Ilithyia stood next to me, pulling my arm.

"Isadora!" Her voice was filled with concern. "Your hand!" I looked down at the hand that gripped the glass cup and realized it was no longer there, but shattered into jagged pieces in my hand and on the floor. Then I felt the pain. I quickly released the shards, blood staining the floor and running down my palm. There were deep cuts caused by my intense grip, leaving it difficult for me to ball my hand. Others came over quickly, pulling a servant a long who had a cloth in hand. The servant wrapped it around my palm, applying pressure to stop the excessive bleeding.

"Apologies, I am alright." I said, trying to calm everyone around me.

"No you are not! Look at your hand!"

"My hand my be damaged, but my vision is unimpaired Ilithyia." I hissed as the servant tied a knot roughly.

"Get her to a medicus!" A man said within the crowed, everyone began to agree and soon guards were coming over.

"It is not required." I said. "None is required, I am fine."

"Isa-" Another started.

"All is well," I assured them. "It is only a hand. It will heal in due time. I will not have this marvelous evening marred by my clumsiness. Please, return to merriment and drinking. Please." With an insistent tone, everything continued normally, give or take a few people that were still concerned. The bleeding stopped and my hand did not hurt much, even though I would require stitches eventually. A servant took me to a restroom to remove the bandage and wash the remaining blood and tiny shards of glass in my hand. It hurt only slightly. She refastened another bandage, adding two more on top, before leaving.

How could I have done that? Allowing my anger to get the best of me. Then again, Ashur did have a tendency of bringing out the worst in people. His thoughts could not be removed from my mind; however. Ever since I had arrived all I heard was talk of Spartacus and how he would hopefully become the new representative of Capua in the tournament. But he would fight many, many indeed just to gain that title. As he continued his strength would slowly diminish, but would that not mean others would as well? Unless . . .. No, I pushed the thought away. No one would dare poison him. My hands trembled at the thought, and I pushed my mind to other things before it could dwell too long. I left the restroom and found the terrace. Others were already seated there, as was Ilithyia; I took a seat next to her in the front row.

"Color has left your cheeks." She noted, running the back of her fingers against it.

"Only from excitement." I lied. Honestly, I was scared out of my mind. Ilithyia looked down at my bandaged hand and touched it lightly.

"Does it hurt much?"

"No, the pain has dulled."

"Very well, I will have your properly cared for upon our return." She said. I smiled appreciatively, and that was when Dominus, I mean Batiatus, sat next to us along with his wife: Lucretia.

"Isadora! How the heart swells at the sight!" He spread his arms open for embrace, I sat up and took it. Lucretia remained quiet. "What a pity," Dominus gently grabbed my injured hand and lightly kissed my fingertips, "To see such beauty marred is a great shame."

"Indeed." Lucretia added, hiding a frown of disapproval. She went to Ilithyia.

"If I had known you were coming, I would have accompanied you."

"I was unaware as well, it was Ilithyia that insisted." I replied. It was only partially true.

"You have been mystery since your departure. Does Glaber keep you under lock and key?" He grinned. I smiled at his joke.

"On the contraire it is I."

"You? But with such freedo-" He chided.

"I still have much to learn, Batiatus. If not for Ilithyia's patience and guidance I would be an embarrassment rather than asset."

"I see. Apologies if I pry, but I could not help but notice that you shared words with Acestes, the assistant to the Magistrate." The familiar stern, serious, but curious look I came recognize very easily surfaced. What interest did he have in Acestes? Or in turn, the Magistrate? I stepped carefully with my words.

"Yes, a very good man Acestes is."

"What did you speak of?" His eyes glimmered and slightly narrowed.

"Only of friends and wisdom. He appears to fancy both subjects."

"Don't we all," Batiatus laughed, "did he not speak of his friend? The Magistrate?"

"No, only to speak his position and then continue conversation on wisdom." I said.

"Yes, and Acestes has much of that."

"Indeed." We shared an evaluating glance at each other, then looked down at the sands. That gates were opening. Ilithyia was suddenly at my side and begging me to sit down next to her; I took a seat.

"It's about to start!" Her voice had gone up two octaves in her excitement. I could feel the same apprehension going through the terrace and the stands. However, all I could feel was dread.

* * *

SPOV:

I could hear the crowed screaming like never before, feel their thundering steps in the sand. This was it. I was either going to be victorious or dead. I remembered what Doctore said to me earlier that day regarding the arena. Every ludus in Capua, which was a fairly large number, would bring their best gladiator and fight. Whosoever became victorious would represent Capua in the tournament and travel to Rome. The thought of being free of the ludus, only to be replaced with Rome, made me hate the Gods. I sat in my cell, what minor armor I did wear, on. Now all that I had to do was wait. I was happy that I was not one of the first to go. Three matches happened before it was my turn. But all I could think about was Isadora, the possibility that she might be in the stands, watching me, cheering me on. The corner of my lips turned up slightly at the thought.

"Spartacus," a guard called me, "it is time." He unlocked the gate and I stepped out. The guard walked me to the main gate, along with others, and handed me my two swords and placed a helmet on my head. Doctore approached. He gave nothing but a nod of approval. I nodded back. The screams of the crowed echoed in my ears, dimming sun slightly blinding me. The gates opened. The screams intensified. My heart pounding in my chest. I walked out.

* * *

My sword barely missed his neck, sliding against the edge of my opponents shield before nicking the side of his helmet, causing it to fly in the opposite direction. He lifted his shield high, taking my sword with it, and lunged forward, grazing my skin with the tip of his blade. I curled back, side stepping quickly to evade what could have been a fatal blow. The crowed screamed in satisfaction.

He turned on his heel, thrusting his sword backward, aiming for my back. I ducked with purpose, swiping out his leg from under him as he drove his other leg toward my crouching body. Collision ensued. He fell to the ground, smacking his back against the sand while I ate dirt, spitting it out as I struggled to get up. He rolled away from me, jumped back to his feet, and charged. His sword came down with much force on mine, striking and striking, nonstop. I crossed my swords and blocked his impending attack, driving him back before bringing one of my swords down and thrashing it across his exposed chest. He recoiled, covering his injured chest with his shield. I could see the blood dripping down his body. If he killed me, he would survive the injury, it was not that deep.

* * *

IPOV:

"It seems Spartacus has finally met his match." Ilithyia said with a conniving grin.

"It seems so." My heart ached at the sight of him. I desperately wished to run to him, but how could I? My hands gripped the arms of the chair, my eyes fixed on the sands as the opponent brought Spartacus to his knees. How could this happen? Blood sputtered from his mouth as the man kicked his chest forcefully, committing him to the ground. "Get up." I whispered. My bandage soaked with blood from my grip, but I did not notice, my entire being was focused on Spartacus. I stood up and went to the edge of the terrace, looking down at him with so many others. "Get up." I repeated. Ilithyia copied my movement and stood next to me, interested in how the events had turned. The man hovered over Spartacus prepared to thrust his sword into the Thracians chest. The crowed cheered as Spartacus rolled the to right dodging the sword before it dug into the ground. He found his feet again and ran at the man who was hunched over, struggling to get his sword from the ground. It all seemed to happen in slow motion: Spartacus running across the sand, clouds of dirt and dust in his wake, raising the sword above his head before kicking off the ground, plunging his sword down the mans head, slicing half of it off, before touching back to the ground. The body wavered for a moment, swaying left and right before completely tipping over. A wave of cries erupted from the overzealous crowed.

"Yes!" I whispered, my hands clutched into fists from the sheer excitement that he was alive. "Yes."

"Hmm. A bit of a disappointment." Ilithyia said.

"What?" I asked, not really hearing her.

"It's a shame for Benedictus," she laughed. "his mother named him poorly." Ilithyia sat back down lazily, not at all interested in the outcome. How could she be so indifferent? So cold? I understood her logic, since Benedictus means "blessing" which really was unfortunate. But how could she . . .. I don't know. In actuality I prefer not to know what twisted ways she views others and the world. It is of no interest to me. "Luckily we will not have to see more blood spilt on Spartacus' behalf." She grimaced.

"How so?"

"Spartacus is already champion; he goes to Rome immediately." She frowned.

"Then what purpose-"

"Entertainment!" Batiatus belched. He stepped beside me and gestured to the people. "See how they thirst for blood? And we are to satiate their thirst with these battles."

"Then they die for no cause? Only the false hope that they will represent Capua?" I tried to control my rising tone.

"Of course not. They die for coin, for pleasure." He gripped my shoulder. "And for false hope." I sickened at his words.

"Isadora, your hand." Ilithyia acknowledged. I looked down and saw that blood was now dripping on the floor.

"Oh." I seized the opportunity. "I shall see it tended to." I smiled and left the terrace before any could object or offer assistance. There was no one to be seen, only the guards, and I quickly approached one. "Take me below."

"Apologies, but that is forbidden."

"I have permission from Legatus Claudius Glaber!" I lied. "I demand you take me below." The guard became frazzled at my intense tone and nodded. It seemed all I had to do was mention Glaber's name and I could do anything. The guard took me down quickly, leading me to an array of cells. I tried not to appear hasty, but could not help myself as we passed each one; either it was empty or did not hold the gladiator I was looking for. A few moments passed and that was when I saw him, sitting on the floor, his arms perched on his raised knees. I stopped before his cell. He did not notice me. "Leave." I told the guard, and he did so diligently.

"How familiar this seems." I said, lightly smiling. Spartacus jerked up, his eyes meeting mine, drowning me in his sea of blue. In one stride he was at the gate, his hand easily fitting through the empty squared, pulling me to him. The kiss was struggled yet passionate through the gate. His fingers tangled in my hair, his lips searing mine with a desire that overwhelmed my own. He deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue in my mouth, I moaned at the returned feeling. I could have stayed there forever in that moment; however, I knew that others would be awaiting me. I pulled away from him, catching my breath.

"Peace, Spartacus." I tried to calm him.

"May the Gods give me the strength to rip these fucking bars." He pulled at them forcefully. I pressed my hand on his chest and the other on his cheek.

"Peace." He slowly seemed to calm down. His hands cupped my face and he lightly kissed me again.

"Words fail me."

"As they do me. I saw you in the arena. I was so frightened."

"Where were you?" Spartacus asked, searching my eyes. I knew there was a double meaning.

"On the terrace." There was a moment of silence. He kissed me again.

"I have missed you so," He ran his fingers through my hair. "My days and nights were filled with thoughts of you, never to be appeased by even the slightest whisper."

"How could I whisper?" I asked. "Our positions are no longer the same."

"Well see mine raised. I intended to win the tournament." His voice was filled with hope.

"The tournament?"

"Batiatus has offered freedom in exchange for victory." He smiled. Spartacus ran his hand down my jaw and across my lips. "I may yet hold you again." This time I kissed his lips.

"Then seek out victory, with caution." I said. He held the hand I had on his chest in his, but the kindness and tenderness that he expressed quickly disappeared when he saw the blood.

"Wha-"

"Anger." I said, smiling lightly. "Fills me with every fleeting moment." I gently pulled my hand away but he kept it there.

"You did this?" His expression was quizzical.

"I was trapped against a wall of rage. Glass was in hand and grip followed suit. Do not act as if you are innocent to the feeling."

"Trapped. Glaber is the cause?" His expression became very serious.

"No, someone closer to home I fear." I could see the answer flicker across his eyes, followed by pure hatred. "Be calm, Spartacus."

"You tell me to do the impossible, Isadora." His voice was harsh, not towards me, this I knew.

"Do not confront him. No one knows of my where abouts." I glanced around the hall. "I must leave, I have been gone to long and am expected."

"A moment longer." His fingers tangled at the hair on the nape of my neck. I ran my fingers across his chin, feeling the stubble of his beard prickle my skin. I kissed him slowly, passionately, relishing in the feel of his lips, his touch, his heat. I pulled away.

"If only I had a moment to spare." I grimaced. I kissed him again, stepping away reluctantly as his hand grasped mine, determined for me to stay.

"Isadora," he said my name as a plea. My heart swelled and I wanted nothing more than to stay there. I rigidly pulled my hand away from his. I pulled out a ribbon that was entangled in my hair. It was baby blue, with a white lace layer with two small silver chains at the end, housing two black pearls. I took his hand and placed the ribbon in it, kissing him..

"Keep this as a reminder of where my heart lies." I kissed him one last time and left before he could keep me any longer.

* * *

"Isadora!" Ilithyia yelled as I entered the foyer. Many people were there to my surprise. "Where did you wander to? Everyone has been seeking you out!"

"Apologies." I said. "I did not feel well and went outside for fresh air."

"Oh." She seemed surprised. "Nonetheless, a lady of your status should not be wandering about unattended." She looped her arm in mine.

"Apologies."

"What is that God awful smell?" Ilithyia plugged her nose. "Is that you?" I smelt my dress, but found nothing displeasing. Only the wonderful scent of Spartacus. "Did you make friends with pigs while outside?" She gawked. I shook my head in confusion. "Well come, we shall take our leave. I will not have you smelling like an animal while in my company. Besides the arena bores me." She ushered me forward and outside, into the awaiting carriage, her nose still plugged until we arrived.


	14. Chapter 14: Everyone Has A Plan

**Chapter 14: Everyone Has A Plan**

I lounged on a couch, feeling restless and uneasy from the evening. My entire body buzzed and tingled from the touch of Spartacus, the taste of his lips, the intensity in his eyes. I wanted nothing more than to be with him, but it was impossible. I dreaded that we no longer shared the same title as Slave, and desperately wished that it would be returned to me just so that I may see him again. I drank water lazily, not know what to do with myself. I wondered if Spartacus was in a similar situation, or fast asleep from the tiring day. I closed my eyes momentarily, but jerked them back open when I heard the gate open. I did not know why I was so surprised, frightened even; I felt like a child who had just been doing something very naughty while their parents were away, about to be caught in the act upon their arrival.

Moments later after the sound of the gate closing, Claudius Glaber entered, the slaves immediately running to him to take off his heavy armor. At first he did not notice me, but when I sat up he acknowledged me with surprise.

"The hour is late and yet you are here?" He asked, finally relaxing in only his under robe.

"Slumber escapes me." I replied as he sat down across from me, a cup of water finding its way to his hand.

"And what of my wife?" He took a long drink and looked at me. I glanced toward their room and lightly smiled.

"Ever peaceful."

"Indeed." Glaber took another long drink and stared at me hard. He knew something, but what exactly? "I shared words with Magistrate Calavius prior to my arrival." he said. My heart leaped forward momentarily. I had spoken to Acestes not long ago, he said he would speak of me to the Magistrate and that I should await response.

"Really?" I asked, my voice as calm as possible. Glaber looked away and focused his eyes on the rim of his cup, rubbing his fingers across it. He and his wife both shared this common habit.

"Yes, he was rather . . .distracted at the time." His eyes lingered over me as did his voice. I suddenly felt very uncomfortable.

"The cause?"

"A proposition. Acestes, his assistant, spoke to him about a woman, one that ensnared his interest at the arena." He looked at his cup then back at me.

"Acestes?" I asked as if I had no idea who the man was. "Is he not married?"

"Indeed, he is; however, this woman was of no physical interest to him. Conversation was struck that left him bemused and stimulated, a strange combination; nonetheless, she left an impression." His expression became hard. I adjust slightly under his gaze, finding it to intimidating to hold.

"And the Magistrates interest in this woman?" I asked.

"Peaked. He demands audience with her upon first light." Glaber stood up suddenly, I cringed a little as he came towards me, only to watch him sit next to me.

"And . . .what are your thoughts on this?" I asked cautiously. For a moment he did not speak, only looked at me. But it did not last long.

"It is an opportunity that must be seized. What is to come of it is unknown to all, but perhaps the risk shall bear fruit." He replied. I stepped very carefully with my words.

"Is her name known to you?"

"Yes. And I would have you go." Glaber said, the corner of his lips slightly curled up into the lightest smile.

"Are you not furious? I disobeyed you."

"By my wife's doing. Her intentions were pure so I would not assume punishment. However, if you desire to remain on good terms, you will see yourself to the Magistrates villa at the suns coming."

"Of course." I replied. Glaber ran his fingers through my hair gently, his hand lingering at my ends before resting on my shoulder.

"Find sleep so that you may be prepared." He said, patting my shoulder. I nodded and stood up, leaving him by himself.

* * *

GPOV:

After speaking with Isadora I departed to my bedroom, finishing my water before crawling in bed next to my wife. She was awake, just as I knew she would be.

"Isadora?" She asked, I knew what she implied.

"Yes, she is going to see the Magistrate at first light." I pulled Ilithyia close to me, wrapping my arms around her waist. Everything was going exactly as planned. I would convince Isadora that she was forbidden to go to the arena, to make her more submissive and somewhat solidify my hold over her, then Ilithyia would convince her that they should go while I was away. However, this could not be just to any game, it had to be the one that all of the important people of Capua would attend. Once there, Ilithyia would grab the attention of Acestes and point out Isadora to him nonchalantly. After that Isadora did all the work with her bold words. And the first phase of the plan had been achieved, gaining the attention of the Magistrate.

"Why must this be so difficult?" Ilithyia turned to me. "Could we simply kill Batiatus and Spartacus ourselves instead of meandering around the task?" I ran my fingers through her hair and sighed, she did not understand.

"Yes, if I were a commoner and not a Legatus. If Batiatus and Spartacus met death without the Magistrate overseeing the plot, the crime would be connected to me and I would be stripped of my title, my dignity, and my life. And my wife would be left to suffer by herself. I would not have you endure such things."

"But must it take so much time? My nerves burn with anxiety and anticipation at the sight dogs heads rolling upon the ground."

"Patience, Ilithyia. We must let Isadora do her part. We must let her broach the subject to the Magistrate so that their departures may be permanent."

"And why could you not broach it with the Magistrate instead? Then secrecy would not be required." She replied.

"The Magistrate knows of my past transgressions with Batiatus and Spartacus. To broach would be to incriminate myself, cause staring eyes and unkind whispers. You would soon find yourself widowed, my wife." Ilithyia cringed under me at the thought and pulled me closer.

"I would not have it so, my husband. I shall be patient and wait to see the House of Batiatus fall, along with their fucking Thracian."

* * *

BPOV:

"'Twas our first encounter with Isadora since her departure, was it not, Quintus?" Lucretia asked as she took off her earrings and handed them to a servant. The servant placed them in a silver jewelry box and continued to help my wife take off her accessories.

"Indeed." I sat behind her, rolling the ring on my forefinger around in circles from boredom. "Why do you detest her so?" I asked.

"Why are you so fond of her?" She looked over her shoulder at me with a smirk. Touché. I stood up and walked over to a table bearing fruits and grabbed a pear, biting into it. It was hard, which was how I liked all my fruit to be.

"Isadora is not but a means to an end."

"A means that you no longer have." Lucretia pointed out. "Now she is in Glaber's possession."

"It is unfortunately so. However, plans for her return are being made." I grinned. Lucretia jerked around in surprise, looking at me. She brushed the servants away, telling them to leave as I leaned against the table and continued eating my pear.

"Has your mind flown?" She asked bitterly. "Attempting to remove Isadora from Glaber's grasp could end in travesty!"

"Which will be much avoided. Isadora is an asset to anyone who holds claim to her. I would not have her be in that cock suckers reach."

"And how do you plan to persuade the cock sucker?" Lucretia asked, crossing her arms over her chest. I stood up and went to my wife, brushing her long hair over her shoulder.

"Do not let that worry you."

"It is not worry that fills me, but anticipation. Glaber's intentions are not known to us, as well as his feelings for the girl."

"He plans to use her, just as I do!" I exclaimed. "Isadora is only good for one thing: gaining advantage. Achieving goals of others, that is her duty. The bitch was made for it! Her tongue shoots arrows into the hearts of men as Cupid, her beauty distracting them as Venus. Glaber plans on reaching up the hierarchy of political office as do I, using Isadora to meet that end. Other than that she serves no purpose."

"So she is nothing to you?" Lucretia asked quizzically.

"Shit is more meaningful than she. Isadora will help me achieve my goal, and that is all." I replied.

"You still have not said of your plan." My wife pressed. My plan was very simple.

"I shall see her returned to me, or removed from thought."

"Killed?" She asked in surprise.

"Of course. I would see her dead than aiding another." I replied. Lucretia didn't seem to have a problem with this. This was very true; however. I could not have Isadora in the hands of another that sought my destruction. It would only be a matter of time before Glaber set his plans in motion, whatever they were.

* * *

SPOV:

"You saw her?" Varro asked me vehemently. I could hardly believe it myself; however the warmth from her lingering touch and the taste of her lips still on mine reminded me of the experience. I felt that it had just happened to me, when in fact it happened what seemed like ages ago. Isadora looked so different, so lovely; more beautiful than I had ever seen her.

"Yes," I replied, sat on the ground against my door. The others had gone to bed long ago; however, I convinced Varro to share words with me a moment before he went to bed. He seemed surprised when I asked him, but once he knew it was Isadora, Varro was more than eager to hear what I had to say. "at the arena."

"She was there?" Varro asked with surprise.

"Yes; she was on the terrace; she saw me. Then she went down to the chambers and the rest . . .well is difficult to explain."

"How so? I would believe sharing a moment would be a task in itself, but to share words? That must come easy."

"Not when the heart is overwhelmed past the point where it bursts from chest." I pulled out the ribbon she had given me from a hidden spot in the leather leg protectors I wore. I felt the soft cloth between my fingers, listening to the black pearls click against each other. "It feels as a dream would; this present removed from her beautiful hair is the only reminder that Isadora was real." I said. Varro clasped my shoulder in understanding.

"When shall you see her again?" He asked.

"That is unknown. As is everything else."

"Did she speak of anything important? Anything that would give sign of engagement?"

"No," I sighed, if only she had or I had. I was suddenly filled with regret, but it stepped aside for humor to take it's place. "however, she has grown more tenacious." I grinned.

"Really now?" Varro grinned back.

"Isadora's self-expression has broken surface, her anger no longer mitigates as it once did; but harm has found way to her because of it."

"What did she do?"

"Ashur engaged her, which thus inflamed her rage. Glass was in hand which quickly shattered, leaving her hand marred. If she were still here such a thing would never happen." I laughed. Why I was laughing I wasn't very sure. Perhaps it was because Isadora truly was expressing herself more with her new freedom. Or perhaps it was the fact the I could no longer hold her, which would usually be met with anger, but finds itself replaced with laughter instead. Almost like a moment when you die, but you don't, and then an overwhelming emotion fills you that causes you to laugh because of the near death experience. I felt that way somewhat; not because of joy or happiness, but maybe because of despair. A despair that was so overwhelming that all I could do was laugh.

"Well Ashur does rise such feelings in people. Apparently her more than others. But all seems well, Spartacus. It was been too long since eyes were last laid upon her."

"It changes nothing." I stood up, wrapping the ribbon around my hand. "Our positions are still the same. She resides with Glaber and Ilithyia, while I remain here." I kicked the dirt beneath my feet. Varro stood up and crossed his arms over his chest as he paces slowly on the sand.

"Win the tournament. Free yourself and all of us." he preached.

"And her freedom?" I asked. Varro had not thought about that; however, that was all I could think about. Even if I did win the tournament, there was no way I would be able to obtain Isadora. She would still be within Glaber's reach, and he would not give her me unless he was dead. Why would he give his enemy the one thing he wants most? There was only one thing I could.

"I have to kill them all." I said. Varro stopped pacing and looked at me.

"What?"

"Batiatus is not a man of his word. He cannot be trusted. Even if there is victory in the arena, the mans greed for fortune would not be satisfied."

"You want to bring down the ludus?" Varro whispered.

"That is the only way all can be free, Varro. The ludus will be destroyed and then I will seek out Isadora."

"This is folly." He hissed in response. "For success agreement must be met with everyone; the Gauls will no join, this we already know, and chances for victory become slim to nothing. You must have all on your side. And even if the ludus falls you will face Glaber and all of his men before you see Isadora. The risk is to great; life could be lost in endeavor which would serve no purpose in aiding her."

"You speak what I already know." I replied.

"Then why press upon it anymore?"

"Because I know that Isadora would do the same for me. The risk is great, but it will bear fruit. I will have her again, Varro. Along with Batiatus' and Glaber's head on a plate.

* * *

IPOV:

I was led into the peristylium (garden in the middle of a house) by one of the Magistrates servants. I was told that he would meet with me soon and I was to wait and be tended to in the garden. When I entered it was different from the one I saw at the House of Batiatus. He simply had a pond; however, the Magistrate had an actual garden, and it was beautiful. From where I stood, the garden was a massive vertical rectangle, with bushes and hundreds of flowers decorating the side. There was a single path made of thousands of pebbles that led to a grand fountain: a life size sculpture of Apollo stood at the center of a giant bowl, filled with water, with tiny spouts encircling the bowl shooting water at his feet. Once the fountain was reached the path would split around the it, creating a large circle, then meet again at the end and continue being strait. By the fountain there were four benches, two on either side of it, and by the benches were two larger statues. There was a statue of Jupiter, Venus, Minerva, and Mars. The servant led me to the closest bench and I sat down. I replied that I did not need anything when I asked and he took his leave diligently, leaving me a moment to bask in the sun and enjoy the beautiful garden.

I stood up and looked at the fountain . . .well at Apollo. For some reason I did not feel the happiness that most usually felt when they laid their eyes upon him. Perhaps it was because I felt that he was false. "You are Apollo," I said as if I were speaking to an actual person. "the God of Light. The God of the Sun. You bring light and hope to the lives of others, yet why do I feel none?" I looked into the eyes made of stone. "Despair fills me at every moment. I feel no hope. And the one that I love is so far away. Perhaps this is a matter of the heart, not of hope. So maybe I should be speaking to your sister instead?" There was no reply. Obviously. I sighed and sat back down, sitting next to the statue of Venus. I looked up at her, then at the fingers in my lap. "Why do people compare us?" I asked. "You are the Goddess of Love and Beauty. I do not see the similarities between us. I believe it's vain to compare yourself to a God. For no one compares to them. It is you that sits atop Mount Olympus and not I for a reason."

"And if Venus were ever to fall, Jupiter would select you to take her place." A voice suddenly said from somewhere. I looked around and saw Acestes walking down the trail toward me. I stood up and smiled as he embraced me with open arms. He cupped my chin in his hand and looked at me. "You have been well receive by all. The Gods would be foolish not to receive you as well."

"It is not the Gods that concern." I smiled. He patted my shoulder and gestured for me to sit down.

"The Magistrate should be of no concern, he is easy to entertain." Acestes sat down next to me.

"That does not calm my nerves unfortunately."

"He is eager to meet you, Isadora. Do not tangle the tongue now at such an opportunity." He reassured me.

"Will you be with us?"

"No," he grimaced. "he prefers to have you to himself. Which we all do." Acestes grinned. The Magistrate appeared from the atrium. Acestes stood up and said farewell. He greeted Calavius as he left, and soon, it was just the Magistrate and I. I stood up as he came near.

"Greetings, Isadora." He smiled as he embraced me just as Acestes did. "Apologies for not coming sooner, there was a bit of a mishap for a dinner party I have tonight."

"None required. You are a busy man, it is to be expected." I replied. We both sat down.

"Acestes has spoken very highly of you, something he does not do often." Calavius said.

"I do not conceive why. I only spoke how I felt and he found much intrigue as a result." I replied.

"You are very humble, Isadora, I see that. But there is something I would like to ask you." He pressed.

"Please do." Calavius clasped his hands together on his lap as he thought for a moment. I could tell that this was a common thing with him, constantly thinking and wondering about the response he would receive. I could tell because it was something I did. I never did or said anything without thinking about how the person would react or how things would be affected.

"What are your thoughts on war?" He asked. I was taken aback by the question. I was expecting "have you been married?" or "What do you think of the games?", something along those lines, not a matter so political.

"War," I thought as I said the word. "war is complicated. Death greets young men before life has flourished, countries are destroyed, nothing remaining but ash and blood soaked sand. Families are destroyed; sons, husbands, cousins, nephews, fathers, all lost. And as war proceeds, men pray to the Gods for victory, hoping that the next day more lives meet their end in search of triumph. I do not see the glory and honor in war, only the pain and fear that all experience, soldiers and families. War is corrupt; the last and brutal means to a political, power, or financial end. I believe war should be avoided at all costs."

"Interesting." Calavius said after a long moment.

"Why would you ask such a question, Magistrate?" I asked.

"I should not be telling you this, but recently there has been a threat from Persians."

"On Capua?"

"On all of Rome. I have spoken with my advisors on whether or not aid should be provided to the King in the case of war, conclusion has not been reached."

"Then why ask for my answer?" I was confused. Calavius looked at me and smiled.

"Acestes said you were wise, another thing he was right about."

"Apologies, I do not believe I am wise."

"You are Isadora. You are because you speak what you feel. If I had asked another I would not have received such a complex response with an emotional attachment."

"Gratitude." I replied. Calavius stood up and looked at the statue of Venus with a critical eye. I stood up next to him and looked at her. She really was a sight.

"You have been compared to Venus," he said without looking at me. "the Goddess of Beauty and Love; however, people have mistaken you." He took my hand in his and lead me to another statue, one that I had not looked at. She wore a long flowing dress and held up a shield in one hand and a spear in the other. Her hair was long down her back and shoulders, but slightly hidden from the beautiful helmet she wore. "You are Minerva: The Goddess of Wisdom." For once I felt that something was right. As if I had been misplaced and finally found where I belonged.

"I do not compare myself to the Gods." I said.

"Of course. But if you were more alike than any of them, it would be Minerva. She is just as beautiful as Venus, but uses her mind and not her beauty. She keeps her guard up; see how she lifts her shield, protecting her weak side, while defending herself with the spear. Notice how elegant she is even with such brutish and unflattering things in grasp."

"She is a sight."

"And one of the most misunderstood and misrepresented Gods of them all." He replied. "Come we shall have wine to escape the heat of Apollo." We retreated to the dining room where food and wine awaited us. Calavius sat at one end of the table while I sat at the other. The servants placed a plate of fruits, meats, and cheeses in front of me along with a glass. Calavius did not hesitate to begin eating. We spoke of many things while we ate: what he was interested in, what I was interested in, politics, more war, past experiences, hopes for the future, but at some point, the conversation took a dramatic turn:

"Acestes told me that you know Batiatus." Calavius broached the subject I was dreading.

"In a sense." I bit into a strawberry and slowly chewed.

"Batiatus is a deceptive person," he said while eating a piece of chicken. "his ambition is none to be compared to. I shared words with his slave, Ashur, not long ago-"

"Ashur?" I asked in surprise.

"The name is familiar I see. He told me that you lived with Batiatus and his wife for a time?" He inquired. I swallowed the bile that threatened to erupt from my mouth.

"Yes. The stay was brief."

"It left an impression. You reside with Legatus Glaber do you not?" He asked.

"Yes."

"Interesting. I was told by an anonymous source that Batiatus intends to have you returned to his villa, are you aware of this?" I practically choked on my food, but mitigated the sensation with wine.

"His intent was unknown to me till now. Are his reasons known?"

"No. But I assume the Legatus is aware of this as well and that some arrangement will be met." Calavius smiled.

"Of course." I hid the panic that was beginning to rise in me. Returning to the Batiatus would be great since I would be with Spartacus again, but if I returned it would not be as a slave, which would make things extremely difficult. And what if Glaber was aware of this? What if he had been hiding it from me the entire time? What did you plan to achieve? I pushed the thought aside for the moment.

"Isadora," his expression changed slightly as he said my name.

"Yes Magistrate?"

"May I ask if you are betrothed?"

"I was," I replied. "but that was a long time ago."

"The cause for this travesty?" He asked

"Death."

"I see." Remorse filled him. There was complete and utter silence for a moment. "Isadora, I would like to introduce you to someone, if I may."

"Of course. Who is it?"

"My nephew. He resides in the heart of Rome and his father is part of the Senate. He is to carry on in the Senate once his father passes." Calavius paused. "He has finally come of the proper age to marry and many proposals by families have already been made; however, he has yet to come to a decision. You and him are of the same age and I would like to take you to Rome to meet him."

"To . . .to become his wife?" I asked.

"If he will have you, and if you will have him. I believe that you two will be the perfect match for each other." When I did not respond for a long time Calavius' expression hardened slightly.

"Apologies. Shock ensnares the tongue."

"It is much to take in. Marcellus has become a great man though, he deserves a great woman."

"Don't all." I laughed lightly to release the tension that had built in my jaw.

"I will take you to him in the next few days. The arrangement will be discussed with the Legatus of course, so you have nothing to worry about."

"Gratitude. I have no words." Calavius smiled at my response.

"Wonderful. The arrangements will be made very soon."


	15. Chapter 15: Masquerade

**Chapter 15: Masquerade **

****Follow this link to see the mask Isadora wears later in the chapter:

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****Follow this link to see the dress Isadora wears later in the chapter:

.com/pics/98029/Bridesmaid_.com/pics/98029/Bridesmaid_

My hands felt dry and clammy for the billionth time that day. When I returned to the abode of Glaber and Ilithyia, who was extremely excited about my return, save for the Legatus, I was almost immediately interrogated. However, I was far to tired to even think of speaking to either, and retreated to my bedroom, hoping for some kind of solace from the horrible encounter that I had with the Magistrate.

It was not that I was not fond of the man, on the contraire I was very much. Nonetheless, he was taking me farther away from what I wanted. The Magistrate spoke to me more about his nephew, Marcellus. He was twenty-four years of age, as was I, and the son of a Senator. His mother had died when he was seven of some unknown disease, leaving him and his father, Vitellius, alone. His father later remarried Cardea, the daughter of a deceased friend. This irked me slightly, considering that Vitellius probably considered her a daughter rather than a wife; it almost felt like incest in a way. The Magistrate continued speaking about his nephew, who, even though he was the son of a Senator, was quiet troublesome. Marcellus spent much of his time in the pleasure of women and gambling, along with brawling to cause his father strife. How typical, I thought.

When the Magistrate and I finished eating he lead me to his office to show me a sculpture of his nephew. In a sense, I was surprised, but only slightly. His jaw was chiseled, but slightly rounded, his eyes large, his nose sharp but turned up slightly at the end, his lips were thin but supple, and his hair was long and flowing, grazing the nape of his neck. The statue was done fantastically, which made me wish to see him for my own eyes. I considered this a bad thing.

I pushed the thoughts aside as Leta, a friend of mine, took my hand in hers. Leta was a gorgeous woman: her light brown hair, hazel eyes, beautiful smile, button nose, and irresistible dimples made her one of the most desired women in Capua. Her body was curvaceous, but not overwhelmingly so. There had been many times when we had embraced and felt the curves and hills of her body, which made my wonder how many men had enjoyed the same feeling. She was the cousin of a friend of the Legatus. Glaber felt that I should enjoy a more diverse company rather than the one Ilithyia anoints me with, and thus introduced me to Leta. We had a connection instantly. She did not care for the roles and status of anyone in Capua, or Rome even; all she cared for was the moments she had. She was constantly laughing and smiling, telling me fantastic stories of her travels and her family. Leta was a refreshing breath from the somewhat dull environment I lived in.

Her hand squeezed mine lightly as we walked around the market. "I'm surprised the Legatus allowed you to accompany me today." She smiled. "I felt sure that he would force you to stay within the confines of his villa."

I patted her hand with my other hand. "As was I; however, both he and Ilithyia were indisposed today, and neither wanted me at the villa alone. So they were more than glad to accept the invitation, as was I." I grinned.

"And the heart swells at acceptance." Leta replied. "But is it necessary to bring his guard around? Really, it is a bit much."

"Agreed, but the Legatus is a bit much as well." I laughed. I glanced over my shoulder at my appointed guard and continued walking with Leta.

"So what is it that filled your mind a moment ago?" She asked, stepping closer to me as people passed by with various carts and goods.

"My mind?" I inquired.

"Yes. I was drabbling on about my brother while you were looking off into the distance with blank eyes." she said.

"Was I? Apologies. I did not intend to."

"It will be much accepted only if you tell me what your mind was restless about." Leta smiled. Things were always so simple with her. She could tell when something was wrong with me and would force it out of me, telling me that I would feel better and that she felt better knowing she could assist me in some way. Leta did not like seeing people hurt or confused or having any sort of conflict. She liked being able to help even if it was just listening to someone vent.

"Do you know the nephew of the Magistrate?" I asked.

"Of course." she laughed as if I was an idiot. "Who does not, Marcellus is very well known in Capua."

"How so?"

"Well," her voice diminished to a whisper. "when he visited his uncle in the years past he was quite the manwhore. Constantly sleeping with women left and right, the scoundrel. However, that was before he found out he was to take his fathers place in the Senate. Once news of that reached the public, it came to a stop. A lot of women were very disappointed at this. Myself among them. The man is well endowed." Leta grinned.

"I see."

"So why do you speak of Marcellus?"

"I shared words with the Magistrate the other day."

"Really now?" she asked with surprise. "If I had known you were entertaining the man I would I found you sooner, my Isadora." she smirked.

"On the contraire, it was by the Legatus' doing. But I did enjoy the company of the Magistrate very much, he is an interesting man. It was not until the end of our meeting that he brought up Marcellus."

"For what purpose?"

I hesitated. "Marriage."

"Marriage?" Leta barked, slightly side-stepping so she could look at me fully.

"Lower your voice." I hissed.

"He plans for you to marry?" She continued, completely disregarding what I said. Leta looked around, completely flabbergasted. "You and Marcellus are to wed? Isadora, this is unbelievable!" Her voice rose in excitement. Bystanders began to look now and I quickly pulled her into an empty ally, the guard standing at the opening, obscuring us from any eye.

"Hush!" I whispered. "No one is to know!"

"But, Isadora, how could you keep this from me? This is so exciting! You are to marry Marcellus, the most devilishly handsome, sexually talented, powerful man in all of Rome! This is not something to whisper about!" Leta said giddily.

"I would have it be so!" I retorted, now completely serious. Leta slowly came down from her momentary high, realizing how strait-laced I was about the situation.

"What would you have me do? Surely you know I cannot contain this great news to myself."

"I expect you to, or see your friendship dissolved, Leta." I replied. Her expression became somber.

"Understood, Isadora." she took my hands in hers. "I would not lose such a good friend that has brought me such happiness." She smiled.

"And neither would I. See to it that your tongue remains under lock and key over this matter, or ripped out by my hand." I said sternly.

"We both know you have not the strength to do such a thing." Leta giggled. I rolled my eyes and smirked, of course I didn't. I would never harm her or anyone. I simply said it to prove a point, it was a delicate matter that was not the be shared to anyone.

"Are you to go to the celebration at the House of Batiatus tonight?" she asked.

"Celebration? What celebration?"

"For their venture to Rome. Spartacus is the Champion of Capua, they are leaving by the end of the week. Were you not aware of this?" she asked confused.

"I was; however, I was not informed that they would be leaving so soon, or that they would even be having a celebration." I grimaced.

"Well they are, Ilithyia was invited as was I. I assumed that you would be accompanying her."

"She told me nothing."

"Even so, I would have you accompany me if not her. It is a masquerade and I have many masks, I would see that you have one of mine."

"I could not." I smiled. I wasn't even sure if I was going. Actually, I knew I was going. I needed to see Spartacus, I had to tell him what was going on.

"It is not a problem, Isadora. I want you too. I shall see you there, this evening, with the most beautiful mask your eyes had ever laid upon. All will be envious of us and beg that they be removed so that the beautiful women beneath may be exposed." Leta ran her finger down my jaw line and smiled. How could I resist her?

"Fine then." I grinned. "Let it be done."

"Fantastic! You will not regret this, that I promise you." She smiled. However, why did I feel that something bad was going to happen?

* * *

ASHUR POV:

I sat patiently in the home of the Legatus; I hated the man with an intense passion, one that could possibly surpass my masters. The house was disgustingly ugly as I stood up and walked around, looking at the bare white walls, varies statues of Glabers head on mantles. So this is what Isadora left the House of Batiatus for? It was almost pathetic; however, I scolded myself for thinking something like that, after all, it's not like she designed it herself.

I continued to look around the house, sauntering down hallways and glancing at things left and right, but nothing truly grabbed my attention. Much of the house was very similar to what I already saw and decided to go back to the living room where I was supposed to wait. I had already been waiting half an hour or so when a servant asked if I would like anything. I declined and continued to ponder as to where Isadora, or anyone, was.

As I thought of Isadora my mind wandered to my encounter with the Magistrate:

_Calavius went to the House of Batiatus in order to discuss some important business that I had no part of. They shared words for hours; however, Batiatus' attention was called else where abruptly, leaving the Magistrate and myself alone. We did not speak for a long moment, hoping for my masters quick return; however, the silence did not last for long._

"_Batiatus has reached much fortune since his recent turn around of the ludus." Calavius looked around the room._

"_We have the Gods to thank for that, as well as my masters skillful hand." I replied._

"_I wish to broach a subject with you, Ashur." the Magistrate said suddenly. I was surprised, since he and I had never shared more than a few words with each other. Not to mention the fact that he was bringing up a topic, which was important, to me instead of Batiatus. I seized the opportunity. _

"_Please do."_

"_Acestes, my assistant, spoke to me about a woman, one you apparently know," he paused, glancing down at his cup of water then back at me._

"_Speak her name and I will tell you whether or not I do." I pressed. Calavius looked back at his cup and grinned slightly; he sighed and looked back at me._

"_Isadora is her name." he said. I immediately looked away from him, my body suddenly tense for some unknown reason, and I inhaled sharply. Just the mention of her name made me realize how much I missed her, how much I wanted to be with her, how her skin felt against my hands, her breath on my cheeks. The memory of when we went to the Pits and how she clung to me flashed behind my eyes; I suppressed a smirk. "From your reaction I assume you do know her?" the Magistrate inquired. _

"_Yes. She resided here for nearly a year." I replied. A year was not long enough._

"_A year?" Calavius was surprised. "For what purpose?" he asked. I bit my tongue. What could I say to the man? That Isadora was taken captive from the remains of Carthage by the Legatus and sold to the House as a slave, were she worked and labored for a year before Ilithyia grew interested in her and convinced her husband to have her? That definitely was a story that could not be told to the Magistrate. _

"_Isadora is a distant niece of Batiatus; her family met a tragic end and she decided to stay with her uncle, who welcomed her with open arms." I lied. It amazed me how easily it came to me. I inwardly smiled at myself._

"_The poor girl." Calavius shook his head in remorse. I pushed it further._

"_The loss of her family was still very fresh for her. Had it not been so hard, audience would have been arranged sooner."_

"_Oh, the child." he continued to shake his head._

"_Isadora kept to herself; it was the first introduction to grief."_

"_And where is she now?" he asked. I hesitated._

"_With the Legatus. His wife took a keen liking to her and now she resides with them." I replied. The Magistrate pondered something for a moment._

"_Must have been difficult for Batiatus I assume?" _

"_Very. He protested in the matter; however, it was Isadoras' choice; she convinced him otherwise."_

"_I see. How long has she been living with them?"_

"_Two months now." I replied._

"_How is she in character, Ashur?" He asked suddenly. That was hardly a question worth answering. Isadora was everything any man could possibly want: a strong, capable woman that could bring him to his knees, but that he could also control, a woman that Jupiter would desire himself. The Magistrate gestured for me to sit, so I maneuvered around the couch I stood next to and sat across from him. "Speak." _

"_She is a interesting woman." I began. "One that is not to be taken for granted or advantage of. Isadora speaks her mind plainly, but without insult, she is tender in every aspect of the word. She is elegant and expressive. Others have told me that she is also wise beyond her years, and the most affectionate lover that could ever be enjoyed." the Magistrates expression changed into something I could not interpret, almost as if he were entranced by how I described the woman many were interested in; nonetheless, I continued. "Her eyes glisten . . .even in darkness; she is a vision of Venus herself. Her body is fragile and gentle, yet rough and experienced at the same time. She is innocent in all ways possible, yet contains a darkness that is so inviting Pluto would gladly shroud himself in it. This is the woman you speak of." I concluded._

"_It seems you know her well." Calavius replied. I did not say anything back, for to speak would betray myself and Isadora. I simply nodded in appreciation instead._

I was pulled from the flashback when I hear sandals clapping against the marble floor. Finally, the woman that consumed my thoughts entered, gracing me with her presents. She fidgeted with the chain of a bracelet, taking it off as she almost wandered past me in her momentary obsession. She stopped in her tracks, looking at me with the most bemused expression I had ever seen.

"What are you doing here?" Her voice was harsh, just like last time; I grinned. I stood up and took a few steps toward her. She held the bracelet firmly in her hand, her eyes narrowing and brows stitching together. "I asked you a question." that voice sent shivers down my spine. I imagined how it would sound when she would say my name from the pleasure I would bring her.

"Batiatus sends his regards for not being able to inform you in person." I said.

"Inform me of what?"

"Tonight, there is to be a masquerade at his villa. You, along with Ilithyia, are invited." I watched her as she swayed back and forth, possibly contemplating what I just said. I took this moment to appreciate the wonders of her. At the arena I did not have to proper opportunity to, yet fate granted me another chance and I eagerly accepted it. The dress she wore was an unforgiving white with the deep square cut neck that just grazed the part in her breasts, the straps of the dress hung loose on her shoulders, draping the soft skin of her arms. The dress clung to her stomach and waist firmly as intricately woven gold lace criss-crossed around her torso until he was tied into a fine knot on her left hip bone. The white fabric then continued down her figure, which flowed fluidly being as there were two large cuts on the sides that started from her mid-thigh to the length of the dress. By simply lifting the front section of the dress her woman hood would be within reach, awaiting my touch.

"None required. I have a prior engagement and will not be attending." Isadora replied.

"With the Magistrate?" I inquired. Her expression turned into hatred, which was lovely on her face.

"That is none of your concern." she paused. "Nonetheless; I shared words with him today . . .he mentioned you."

"It's nice to know I am on good graces with the Magistrate." I grinned, taking a few more steps toward her.

"You spoke to him about me, do you deny it?" her defensive side amused me.

"No. How could I ever deny speaking a word about you?"

"What was your intent?" Isadora asked.

"I had none, the Magistrate asked if I knew you and graced him with response." I replied. Her expression changes drastically; her once hard and stern features became urgent and shocked-frightened and intimidated as she stood before me. Of course I knew what she was thinking; whether or not I mentioned her servitude at the House of Batiatus and if she had been found out. But even I was not that evil to let such a wonderful woman be destroyed by the whim of a man that hardly knew her, such as the Magistrate. I stepped closer to her again, this time she retreated, taking fleeting steps backwards until her backside bumped a small table with an even smaller vase that crashed to the ground, dispersing into hundreds of pieces; nonetheless, that did not distract either of us. "Glaber will be upset that such a fine piece of craftsman shift was destroyed." I meandered my hand around her, slightly brushing her waist as I picked up a small remnant of the vase from the floor.

"What did you tell the Magistrate?" her voice was shaky, a poor attempt to be hard and convincing. I left the shard in the palm of my hand, feeling the weight of it, the sharp edges, the small design, and the smoothness of it.

"What he wanted to hear." I replied simply, "I would have told him more; however, I would not want to tarnish the reputation you worked diligently for."

"I have no reputation," she chided, "only truthful words which lead to infinite disdain at the moment by your presence and antics."

"You are so humble," I lightly laughed, "too humble for your own good."

"I'd rather be humble than the slithering snake of a bastard." she replied. This irked me for some odd reason. I had been called many things in the past: snake being the most common; however, something was different about the way she said it that I couldn't shake. I turned my back to her and prepared to leave, walking away from her as I spoke:

"Batiatus may be a bastard, but I'm not his snake. I serve myself. Think of that and the Thracian when you attempt to insult me with harsh words that cause many unnecessary wounds." I grinned. For the briefest moment there was silence as I left the house of the Legatus, but it was only a matter of milliseconds before I heard her sandals patting against the marble floor. Isadoras' hand reached my shoulder, in an attempt to turn me around while she began to say "Listen to me you son of a bitch" or something along those lines; however, she had no time to finish when I grabbed the hand on her shoulder, jerked her forward, then pushed her back against the cold wall, locking the hand above her head and the other at her side.

Her breathing was heavy and ragged, not out of desire or temptation - like mine- but out of pure anger and frustration. My body pressed against hers roughly, keeping her where she stood, feeling her hard nipples press on my chest through the thin fabric of her dress.

"Gladiator may no longer be my title; however, I still retain my reflexes." I said, holding her gaze. Her brows stitched together and eyes narrowed at me. I could feel her stomach and chest rising and falling as she breathed, rubbing her body even more against mean even if she hadn't intended to. She had no idea how difficult it was for me to not rip the dress of then and there. All I wanted to do was taste every part of her and hear the name ASHUR fall from her delicious lips and no one else's. This made me wonder it that was how Spartacus felt whenever he was around her . . .or not around her. It made me curious if he felt like that all the time, and for once, I somewhat understood him, even if it was under such circumstances. "Why does Spartacus hold your heart?" I asked rhetorically; I was thinking out loud. "How many times has he held you like this? Felt the heat from your body against his? The warmth of your breath on his cheek? The sweet scent of your hair fill his lungs?" Isadora began to shake slightly, she was becoming nervous . . .very nervous.

"What is it you desire, Ashur?" her voice mimicked her body, shuttering slightly. "You did not come all this way to send me invitations." I looked at her, our eyes meeting for the first time since I wondered about Spartacus. Her eyes were large with anticipation and a hint of fear. I was doing this to her, and was enjoying it only a little.

"No, I did not . . ." I replied, "I came for something far more valuable than a invitation." I took the hand I held at her side and covered it with mine, guiding to her hip bone then down until it reached her exposed thigh where the fabric grazed her skin before splitting into two. She gasped as I ventured down further, using her hand, until the fabric was pushed to the side and my fingers lingered against the inside of her thigh. "This is far more valuable . . ." my fingers treaded farther up her thigh until I felt the heat radiating from her cunt, I gulped at the sensation. Isadora turned her head away, squeezing her eyes shut, biting her bottom lip. It was a beautiful sight. My fingers grazed her lips when a loud band was heard down the hall, followed by many footsteps and chattering voices. I cursed silently and pulled away just before a crowed of people appeared before us.

"Isadora? What are you doing here?" Ilithyia asked, "I thought you were at market with Leta?" Isadora quickly corrected herself, adjusting her dress and standing erect, taking a few steps away from me.

"I was; however, fatigue mixed with the heat overwhelmed me and was no long fit to be in Letas' company." she replied.

"I see," Ilithyia inspected the area, her friends chattering among themselves. She looked at me expecting something, then at Isadora who was obviously distraught at almost being caught in such an intimate act. "What are you doing here?" she asked me.

"Only to relay the invitation sent by my master, Batiatus, of the masquerade this evening."

"Very well, get out then you've served your purpose." Ilithyia demanded. I bowed to her slightly then walked past, sparing a glance at Isadora. Just before I was out of ear shot of the hall; however, I swore I heard Ilithyia ask Isadora why she was shedding tears.

* * *

ISADORA POV:

I scrubbed my body until it was red, removing every lingering sensation of Ashurs' repulsive touch down my legs. It was ineffable how I felt; once he left a flood of tears washed through me that I quickly pushed away while in Ilithyia, and her guests, company. I charged to my bedroom and demanded one of the servants draw a bath immediately with scorching hot water. I nearly burned myself getting in, but still it did not feel like enough to remove the horrible feel of Ashurs' fingers on me.

I despised him. I hated him. I loathed him. I wished he were dead a million times over and still it never satisfied me to see his life come to an end. He was to much of a snake to be given the gift of death; a slow tortuous one that spanned over a few years would probably suffice. I sank into the water just enough until it reached my upper lip. My mind was everywhere and nowhere at the same time, thinking about everything and nothing, filled with a storm of thoughts and clouded with a black curtain. Ashur always had the ability to do this to me, and for that I despised him even more.

My eyes were dry from the crying that consumed me, and swollen and red. How would I be able to hide it from Ilithyia . . .or Glaber? I pushed the thought aside and sunk deeper into the water, completely covering my head. My hair floated around me in loose chunks, covering my eyes, making it impossible to see anything above me. Small bubbles slowly raised to the surface as I exhaled through my nose, staying under longer than usual. But soon I felt the burning sensation in my lungs and the numbness in my fingertips that always occurred when I needed it. I ignored it. Only for a moment.

I resurface and sucked in a breath of air, filling my lungs and mitigating the burning; feeling returning to my fingers. I leaned against the edge, quickly catching my breath, that was when I noticed Ilithyia sitting at the edge of the tub, her legs crossed, back erect, hands on her knees, examining me. I blinked back the water in my eyes from my dripping face and looked at her expectantly.

"Is something the matter?" I asked after she said nothing. Ilithyia looked away and smoothed out the creases in her dress that formed by her knees before resting her hands on them again then looking at me. I recognized the look she gave me, it was so familiar to the one she always gave Lucretia when she found her out about something; it was the I-KNOW-WHAT-HAPPENED-BUT-I'M-GOING-TO-PRETEND-I-DON'T-AND-MAKE-YOU-FEEL-BAD-UNTIL-YOU-TELL-ME-EXACTLY-WHAT-HAPPENED look. She never used it on me before until then.

"I had hoped to surprise you today." Her voice was stern, much like a mother about to scold a child, "with the company of many prestigious women that I knew you would take a liking to." I said nothing. She continued. "They think much like you and have risen to great status because of it. I thought that you would enjoy the assembly of such like-minded women who share the same thoughts as you." I still said nothing. "When I spoke of you interest consumed them. They had great expectations of today, only to be filled with disappointment when they looked upon a distraught figure that later ran from the room, absent introduction or explanation."

"Apologies." I said finally.

"Which will be well received, only if the reason for such departure is explained." Ilithyia said. I hesitated before I spoke; to tell her of Ashur would only raise more questions, which could possibly reveal the nature of my affections towards Spartacus. I would not have it happen.

"I wish not to speak of it."

"My forgiveness is not desired?" Ilithyia recoiled at the prospect and looked at me menacingly. This gesture made me think she was a snake more than anyone else.

"Your forgiveness is all I desire," I lied, I didn't give a shit if she forgave me, I didn't care at all, "however, my mind wanders and I do not feel fit for such forgiveness." I did not meet her eyes at all when I spoke, trying to persuade her my false words were true. Ilithyia released an audible sight, stood up, walked closer to me, and sat down at the edge of the tub next to me. She grabbed my hand from the depths of the water and held it in hers, looking at me with the faintest smile as I looked at her confused.

"Then see it steadied. I present proposition." she said, "Attend the masquerade of the House of Batiatus and force all eyes from him to you . . .and see my forgiveness placed upon you."

"For what reason?" I asked, not understanding her motive.

"To gain respect and advantage from the bastard. Both you have yet to deserve and have always required. Batiatus has yet to show proper respect for your knew position, with acknowledgement from peers he will be forced to."

"And advantage?" I inquired. Ilithyia released my hand and cupped my chin.

"To make the man look like the fool he really is." I looked away from her, sliding deeper into the tub unconsciously. Her hand moved to my cheek, turning my face toward her so that I may meet her gaze. "You deserve better treatment that what is given . . .from all."

"Does that include you?" I asked. She did not reply.

"Come to the masquerade, obtain the respect that should have been given to you upon departure, Isadora. Put Batiatus to shame with how well you are doing . . .how well I've treated you . . .that is all I ask for." with that, Ilithyia stood up and left the bathhouse, leaving me alone, which I was more than glad to be.

* * *

SPARTACUS POV:

I stood completely erect as the masked women surrounded themselves around me, hesitant running their hands down my body and giggly like excited girls; I tried not to roll my eyes. Every person in the villa wore a mask, some were more extravagant than others, and some were completely garish; frightful things. However, every now and then a mask would find its way into a hand, revealing the face behind. None of whom I was interested in. The other gladiators stood in a fine line behind me, matching my erect figure and plain face that held no expression as they were observed by the guests.

Golden drapery hung from every corner of the large room, covering the grey walls, while red drapery pinned in the top most corner of one wall hung down loosely horizontally as it stretched across the top of the wall until it was pinned to the top most corner of the other wall; this continued around the rest of the room which created a fine red border. From where I stood, to my left there was the arranged sitting area with a few large couches and a few small ones, about forty people were seated or standing over there. To me right was nothing by tables filled with trays of food (and women on tables with food on them), glasses of wine everywhere, and obviously the entrance, which, right adjacent to it, was a small band playing light ambient music. How badly I wanted to grab fire and burn the whole fucking place down. I pushed the thought aside when a new batch of women approached and started speaking.

"A marvel, is he not?" one asked the other, the first one wore a black mask with some kind of embroidery and blue swirls that looked like smoke (the masked covered her nose and up, only revealing her green eyes); the second wore a pure white one, made of some kind of fabric, with several pearls shaped into flowers along the forehead line. Her mask was much similar in shape; however, instead of show green eyes, it showed light blue ones.

"Indeed." the one with the white mask spoke, "such a shame that he may not enjoy my company," she grinned, "the mind can but wonder how he uses his cock."

"Do not say such things freely," giggled the other, "others will hear."

"Let them hear them, I have no shame in my desires." she replied boldly, "Tell me Spartacus, are you skilled in your cocks use?" she asked. I looked from one to the other, only making eye contact since I saw no sense in looking elsewhere. After a long moment of hesitation I nodded slightly. The women giggled in excitement.

"I would have demonstration, then . . ." the other said "to feast my eyes upon such perfection." she smiled. "Come, let us seek Batiatus so that we may see such display of raw savagery." she grabbed the other by the arm and pulled her away, meandering through the crowed and glancing back at me with the same giggles, searching for Batiatus. Fucking whores. I relaxed slightly at their departure, shifting my weight back and forth as my muscles grew stiff from the excessive standing. I hated celebrations, at least the one I was situated in. It was pointless and degrading; people marveling at a man who kills other men to survive . . .but then, was that so different from what I did before? I pondered the thought a moment longer then left it alone, not wanting to venture in such a dangerous direction.

It was not long until I felt another hand pressed upon my skin; however, this one was very different: the hand ghosted over my shoulder from behind me, I could hear the steps as the stranger stepped around me, the hand gliding across my upper back before cresting over my other shoulder and lingering down my chest before sneaking away. The woman stood in front of me; long dark hair cascading down her shoulders, a metallic silver mask covering the higher part of her face, leaving only her dark eyes and lips for me to dwell upon. (Refer to links at the top of the chapter)

The mask itself was beautiful: the deep metallic silver with matching glittering swirls around the edges and eyes while making strange designs on the remainder of the mask so as not to look bare, and a similar flower protruding just from the left side as if it were a clip in her hair. However, it was not the mask as I was concerned with, rather, the face behind it.

"So you are the reason that this is brought about?" the one asked, I did not reply. "Speak," her voice was stern.

"It seems so." I replied, noticing that people slowly began to linger away, scurrying off to other things, leaving the woman and I alone.

"Do you enjoy these things?" her voice became softer, less vexed, more relaxed, and somewhat hesitant. I figured she noticed that the crowed began to diminish as well.

"Yes . . .and no." I said.

"A political reply." she scuffed, "but that does not answer my question. How do you manage . . .among these people, who desire your victory at the price of another?" she asked. Her question caught me off guard; I had never been asked that before, so I never really thought about it. In the past I did not know how I managed at all, but when she asked me then and there, I already knew my answer. However, to tell her would be the death of me.

"I do not dwell on such thoughts. I do as commanded."

"In front of them yes, but in the company of more common people," she stepped forward; I could feel the heat radiating from her body. This woman was very different from the women that approached me before. My breath wavered at the close proximity. "you do as you please." her large dark eyes searched mine infinitely. I did not know what to say. We were silent for very long. "Do you not wonder who I am?" she asked, her eyes still searching.

"The skull cracks with temptation," I replied. She looked down at my arm which was wrapped in a thick layer of leather and fur for protection, and tucked away by my wrist hung two black pearls dangling from a chain that was connected to a ribbon. She noticed this. The woman reached for the pearls, I nearly snatched her hand away, but corrected myself; to touch her so violently would lead to my demise and I would not have it. However, instead of grabbing them and pulling out the ribbon like I thought she had intended to, she simply grazed the pearls with the pads of her fingers gently, then pulled her hand away, looking at me.

"You kept it," she smiled. The dam that held back my emotions cracked, giving way to a flood of emotions that washed through my entire being in a matter of seconds.

"Isadora-" I stepped to her but was held back by her firm hand pressed against my chest. The smile was replaced with a stern look, and those now familiar eyes were filled with worry. I stepped back into my place.

"Do not speak," she said, "This night, I am unknown to you. I was not here with you; my name was never spoken, Spartacus. This night I am stranger and lover. Please, wait until opportunity presents itself before action is taken." a moment later she was gone, and I was left with a rapidly beating heart and haggard breathing.

* * *

ILITHYIA POV:

I watched Isadora as she entered the separate room where the gladiators were unseen. Many of the guests had left the main room to be where I stood, observing one of the lesser gladiators fuck a slave tenaciously and with much passion that no husband could ever bring to a wife. I stood next to Lucretia, who was speaking in whispers to her husband next to her; I could not hear, but did not care honestly for what was said. It would only be a matter of time before the tongues they used so fluidly would be ripped from their bases and fed to the pigs. I grinned at the thought and had the sudden urge to boast in front of them.

"The celebration is lovely, Batiatus." I said, interrupting the husband and wives conversation. He looked at me past his wife and smiled, giving his gratitude and how pleased he was it met my standards. "It truly is wonderful," I cajoled slightly, "only, I held a masquerade some time ago. Of course it was larger in scale, which much more sufficient company, with food that even the Gods would crave instead of this dirt that gives me cotton mouth. The wine; however, I do give my compliments." I raised my glass to him to accent my point. He nodded his head in approval, unsuccessfully hiding the disdain he had for me.

"How does your husband fair, Ilithyia?" Lucretia asked, diverting my current state of contentment.

"Well, he resides in Rome at the moment, important matters with the Senate," I added, "but you would not understand that." I noticed Lucretia swallow hard at my words, then produce a brilliant smile.

"What matters, may I ask?"

"Marcellus, the son of Vitellius, is to married. My husband is to aid in the preparations, and, obviously, we are invited."

"Marcellus?" Batiatus looked at me with a keen interest, one I learned to dislike. "Married to who?"

"That is unknown to me," I lied. "My husband prefers to keep such sensitive matters to himself,; he knows I would tell every soul under the sky."

"He gave you no hint as to who it may be?" He pressed.

"None." I replied. Lucretia and Batiatus shared glances.

"How long has this been known?" Lucretia asked.

"Not but a day," I smiled. I scanned across the room and found an old acquaintance in the midst of the bodies "Apologies, my attention is required elsewhere." I left the couple before they could ask me anymore, grinning as I walked away. They would find out in due time who Marcellus would be married to, and when the did, all hell was going to break free.

* * *

BATIATUS POV:

As the evening progressed and the hour became late, the guests slowly began to file out until there were only a few left. It appeared the evening went off without a hitch and the guests enjoyed themselves; that was all that mattered. It did not surprise me to see several women surrounded by the Thracian whenever I took a sparing glance in his direction. On one occasion, I saw a woman groping his ass as if she were petting a feline. I nearly choked on my wine from laughter, but subdued it as to not draw attention to myself or the woman.

However, there was one other occasion that did strike my interest. Another woman, wearing a silver dress and matching mask approached Spartacus. Her fingers ghosted over his skin, not exactly touching him. Spartacus held her gaze with fixed eyes that were undeterred by his surroundings. I had never seen him so focused on one thing. Her body angled slightly, connecting her hip to his as she turned her head, possibly whispering something in his ear; at that moment I saw the distinct movement of his hand raising to her hip, and grasping her skin, pressing him closer to him slightly. My eyes narrowed at the action which only striked my fancy as to who the woman was. However, someone called my name from behind me and I looked away momentarily, only to look back and find her missing. Not a second later I found Ashur and described the woman I saw to him, ordering him to find her and watch her actions.

Ashur approached me as I thought:

"Well?" I inquired, Ashur crossed his hands in front of him and leaned back slightly.

"Nothing, Master." he replied, his expression fixed and determined. My eyes narrowed at him.

"Not a name? Face? Age even?"

"No,"

"I ordered you to watch her all night and you shit in my face with a hand full of nothing?"

"She was difficult to keep track of, Batiatus. Not much could be gained except that she was around Ilithyia very much through out the evening, but so were many other people."

"I give no fuck about other people!" I barked at him. "That whore was whispering with our champion about matters of interest to him! Find out who she is and why there is such a keen interest in Spartacus!" I ordered. Ashur nodded his head and stepped away; however, he turned around to me again.

"Might we just ask Spartacus if memory recalls the woman?" Ashur proposed. I weighed the option for a moment; I did not want Spartacus to feel awkward and questioned while it was such a joyous moment. That last of my desires was for him to lose trust in me, and since Rome was only a few days away, his trust was of the up most importance. Nonetheless, I had to know who the woman was because there was something that I could not shake about her.

"I have no intention of questioning the man; if his talk with the one was one of personal significance I highly doubt he would speak the truth about it to me . . .nonetheless, bring him up." I commanded, and Ashur went to fetch the champion.

* * *

SPARTACUS POV:

I recalled all that occurred that evening as I laid on my bed, somewhat satisfied, but still hungering for Isadora. I had the feeling she would be at the masquerade; however, there was always that doubt in the back of my mind that made me think otherwise.

_As most of the guests began to leave, Batiatus ordered that the gladiators be sent to the ludus so that the remaining guests could enjoy each others company. My heart clamored as the gate closed behind us, wondering if there was anyway I could possibly see Isadora after my dismissal. I was pacing back and forth in the square, restless and agitated. It took all I had not to hold her in my arms when she approached me the second time, telling me she would find a way to spare a moment in isolation. Hours seemed to pass when they were only minutes, and soon I found a servant approaching me, telling me to go to the gate. Once there, I saw my Isadora, mask still on, guard beside her holding the gate open. She glanced at me through the mask._

"_A moment." She told the guard. He nodded and went up the stairs until he was out of sight, the servant following behind him, whom Isadora gave great thanks to. Once both intruders were gone, I did not hesitate a moment to have her in my grasp. Our lips met in a searing kiss, our hands holding each other desperately, afraid that the other may disappear abruptly. I pulled away reluctantly, noticing her swollen and red lips, taking pity on them slightly that they should be marred by the intense passion of the moment. Then, we simply held each other; her head resting on my shoulder, her scent engulfing my entire being. How I could not wait for the day were we could embrace like that every minute of every hour of every day . . .knowing that she was mine alone. We did not share words at all for what seemed like ages; however, I was more than willing to stay like that forever, just holding her. _

_Isadora hesitantly pulled away, just enough so that she could look up and see my face. I looked at her mask._

"_If only I were that mask," I whispered, gently lifting it from her face to reveal her true beauty._

"_If you were, it would never be parted from me." she replied. Isadora tilted her head up and kissed me lightly, her eyes diverting suddenly. "You leave for Rome soon." she stated._

"_Yes . . .the distance will be treacherous, but I shall not be long." I replied. I wanted to sooth her, to help her understand that even though we would be miles away, she would still be very close to me and I would not be there very long. But also to help her remove the thought of my possible death in Rome. However, she was a smart woman, and could not be diverted._

"_Death quickly approaches," her hand rested over my heart._

"_And I will gut him when he does," I rested my hand over hers. "do not worry for me."_

"_You ask the sun not to rise, Spartacus . . .that is impossible."_

"_I will return, you shall see me champion and gain freedom, and I will take you away from here, so that no harm may come to you."_

"_I care not for myself, only you." a small tear fell down her cheek, "When you leave, I will be closer than you think. I will watch you from afar and see you rise to victory, see you take what is rightfully yours." Isadora replied. I took her by the hips and pressed her closer to me._

"_I already have what is rightfully mine." I said. Her lips quivered at my words and her knees gave way slightly; however, I was there. And I would always be._

No words were shared after that, only gentle caresses, passionate kisses, and the sweet sound of her moans and whimpers at my touch. The time we shared was not long; however, I could have died happily in that moment.

Soon after, Isadora left. I returned to my room, the gate chattering closed behind me followed by the loud lock. I was on the brink of sleep as the memory lingered when my door opened. A servant told me to quickly go to Batiatus, which I unfortunately did.

Upon entering his chamber, I noticed Ashur standing at the threshold, a strange gleam in his eye suited with a grin which he later hid by wiping his mouth. Batiatus stood up from where he was sitting on a couch and gestured for the guard to leave that escorted me.

"The heavens burst open for you tonight, Spartacus!" Batiatus chimed, throwing open his arms to prove his point. "Many a guest were satisfied by you and your peers this night, and for that, gratitude."

"It is who should have gratitude as such an opportunity." I replied, for without it, I would not have been with Isadora.

"And it is gladly accepted; however, there is business that must be dealt with." his expression became serious.

"What business?"

"It pertains a woman of particular interest."

"There were many women." I said. Batiatus laughed at my response.

"True, nonetheless, one approached you this evening. Perhaps memory recall: she wore a silver dress and matching mask,"

Fuck.

Batiatus waited for my reply. When none came he rolled his eyes and tapped his foot impatiently.

"She spoke to you in whispers that obviously held your interest. I observed the entire escapade."

"That woman," I said as if finally realizing who he was speaking of. He nodded his head in approval.

"Was a name given?" Batiatus asked. I looked at Ashur from the corner of my eyes, he did not appear to be interested in the matter whatsoever.

"None." I replied.

"Then what was shared?"

What could I tell him? To tell him that it was Isadora would be suicide, but to tell him what she said would be far far worse. I thought for a moment. What did the other women speak to me about?

"H-h-her desires of me, Dominus." I said finally. Batiatus' head jerked back at my words, the later relaxed as his lips formed into a grin.

"Desires? Of course. Every cunt in the room was dripping for your cock to fill them, that is to be expected." he laughed. He came over to me and patted me on the shoulder while leading him out of the chamber. "You are to be the greatest champion Rome has ever seen, Spartacus. Women will come far to see your terror."

"It is a shame Isadora cannot be counted among them!" Ashur said suddenly, following behind with the same grin from earlier.

"A shame indeed," Batiatus hissed. "Glaber has her under lock and key since her arrival at his villa, no matter, all of Rome may have the chance to faint at her beauty in the future!"


	16. Chapter 16: Rome

**Chapter 16: Rome**

"Rome is lovely, Isadora; where people of true status and influence reside." Ilithyia smiled, looping her arm in mine as we walked down the extravagant markets of Rome. "Does it not compare at all to the disgusting streets of Capua?" she asked, waving at a few people here and there that she recognized.

"Not at all." in all honestly I was awestruck. When we arrived I was overwhelmed by the beautiful architecture and the people dressed in the most gorgeous garments I ever saw. Everything and everyone seemed so beautiful; I found it difficult to grasp that there was a place such as Rome after my time in Capua. "Why do you stay in Capua if most of the Legatus' business is here?" I asked. If it were me I would stay in Rome, it would definitely be far more convenient that having to travel such a long distance.

"The politics of Rome tire my husband, he finds escape in Capua. Also he was designated to the degrading republic, we have no choice but to be there." Ilithyia replied.

"I see." I said. Ilithyia continued to talk about her love for Rome and her life before she married Glaber and what not; however, I could hardly pay attention or care less. My thoughts were else where. I couldn't help but think about the masquerade . . .about Spartacus. I scolded myself for not telling him about Marcellus, or the Magistrate, or my travels to Rome; but how could I? He was so pleased to see me, I did not want to destroy his merriment with such horrible news. I was lying to myself; I was terrified of how Spartacus would react if I told him. He would burst, like Pluto from the Underworld, and speak horribly of me, and we would part in disdain and pain. I could not put him in that position, I would not. It was not necessary that Spartacus know at the moment since my relationship with Marcellus had yet to be discovered. I thought it would be best if he didn't know, at least until I found out on how far things were going with Marcellus, and I would find out that day. I sighed at my act of betrayal . . .my lying. Apparently, Ilithyia noticed this and interpreted it differently.

"You are worried about your invitation to meet Marcellus, are you not?" she asked. I looked at her like she was an idiot, then quickly turned it into contempt.

"Yes." I somewhat lied. I was worried about meeting Marcellus, but he was not my number one priority at the moment.

"Put your mind at ease. Marcellus is no more a man than the Magistrate."

"On the contraire. He is younger, irrational, thinks with his cock, irresponsible, and troublesome. At least that is what I have heard from everyone I have encountered concerning Marcellus." I retorted. Ilithyia laughed at my reply and patted my hand.

"All of which is true. But understand this which I am about to say to you: Marcellus is young: yes, irrational: definitely, thinks with his cock: undeniably, and everything else you have said. But . . .because of these things you will win his heart quickly and become the wife of a soon to be Senate." she grinned.

"But is it what I desire?" I slipped out. I didn't mean to say it out loud, it was only a thought. Ilithyia turned me to her abruptly, stopping in the middle of the market.

"It is what every woman desires." she said as if she were appalled by my question. "Women have murdered for the chance to become wife to him. Consider yourself lucky to even be considered for marriage with Marcellus. It is a honor that you should be thankful to the Magistrate for."

"But I am not every woman, Ilithyia." I stated. "My desires are not like others. I do not require this," I gestured to my robes and to the market. "It is not necessary."

"You have yet to appreciate all that I have done for you." Ilithyia was disgusted with me. She stepped to me, her voice lowered. "When I saw you for the first time at that celebration, Isadora, I knew I was looking at what Venus intended women to be, not the fucking whores that wander the streets. I knew that you were different and deserved more than the title of 'servant'." She came off somewhat intimidating, like a mother scolding her naughty child. "I have elevated your status and brought Marcellus to your front door, presented opportunity,"

"Which I gladly took." I added.

"Only to shit upon it!" She yelled. "You have disappointed me with your juvenile thoughts and simplicity. You're desire should be to marry Marcellus above all others, I will not have you ruin such an opportunity because of your inability to think about the future." Ilithyia picked up her dress and walked away. I followed quickly behind her, anger causing my face to flush.

"And who's future should I think about Ilithyia?" she looked at me over her shoulder.

"What are you talking about? Yours of course, would I speak of any others?"

"Yes, you have given my opportunities, and for that I am grateful; however, who have I really taken them for?" I asked. Ilithyia stopped in her tracks and turned around, looking at me.

"Do you assume I have plans that do not involve your happiness?" she questioned and if I physically hurt her.

"I assume that you are not concerned with my happiness at all." I said. Her eyes narrowed at me, and her hands clutched her dress firmly. She was restraining herself. After a moment she took a frustrated breath and looked around the market. People were staring at us, but I didn't care. However, Ilithyia did. I stepped closer to her, whispering so only she could hear. "What would my marriage with Marcellus mean for you, Ilithyia? What would you have to gain from my elevated status that would come with marriage?" For a moment something flashed behind her eyes, something devious and evil. My heart jumped slightly at the sight. Then it was gone, and replaced with a fake tenderness that made me know that she had something planned. Something that didn't involve me at all. And my thought was confirmed when she stepped closer to me, grabbed my shoulders gently, exposed a convincing smile, and said:

"Seeing you happy and being content with knowing you are in the loving arms of a man that is secure in every facet of the word." her eyes gleamed. Ilithyia was a liar and she had a secret agenda. I was going to wait; however, and let it unfold.

* * *

MAGISTRATE POV:

"Uncle," Marcellus came to me and wrapped his arm around my shoulder, "you know I love you."

"I do." I nodded in approval. "And that is why my only desire is to see you happy."

"Marriage is not the only means to happiness, Uncle."

"You have found happiness in many women, Marcellus." my nephew looked away at my words, somewhat embarrassed that I would speak of his . . .wandering gaze. "But in none have you found love."

"And you expect me to love this woman?" he pulled away from me and sat down on a plush sofa in the living room. I remained standing and gestured for one of the servants to bring me a plate of fruit from a table far away from me.

"I expect you to open yourself to possibilities . . .just as your father does." I replied. The servant handed me the plate and I sat down on the sofa opposite Marcellus, picking at a few green grapes before selecting one to eat. When the subject of marriage was first broached with Marcellus, he was erratic to say the least. He said that we were condemning him and punishing him for his past transgressions, when in reality it had nothing to do with it. He was stubborn and grew tired of things easily, mostly women. He was constantly looking for something new and fresh, someone able to keep up with him and push his stamina, in more ways than one. But yet, in the midst of his childish ways he was also a responsible and caring man, more than capable of loving the right woman. And I believed I was finally presenting him with the right one. "You're father married at your age, Nephew. He was just as timid and resentful as you are now, if not more; nonetheless, he came to love his wife. First befriending her, then allowing his feelings to grow. He left himself open to her."

"I am not my father." Marcellus spat.

"Yes you are. You may not see it now, but I do. I already see you following in his footsteps, and I do not speak of you joining the Senate."

"I have no desire to join the Senate; I do not want to be my father, constantly worrying about politics, ignoring his child, save when he causes trouble."

"You're father loves you, Marcellus. Never doubt that. He may not be able to spend as much time with his son as a father should, but he has been there for you when most needed. He has picked you up countless times and has taught you to do the same for others." I put the plate aside and stood up, walking over to the sofa he sat on and seated myself next to him. "Marcellus, you may not want to be your father, but he has shaped you into a fantastic man. One worth being praised for. And this day I wish to present you with a fantastic woman. You know I would never wrong or deceive you. So listen to me when I say, leave yourself open to her. She will not disappoint."

Marcellus looked at me from the corner of his eye and sighed. "Is she attractive?" he asked after a moment. I rolled my eyes at him and patted his knee.

"She has been compared to Venus." I replied. I knew he was reluctant; however, I also knew that he was curious as to who the woman might be. Marcellus huffed at my answer, finding it difficult to believe that she was that beautiful. But Isadora was not just beautiful on the outside, but on the inside as well . . .and that is what counted the most. In all honesty, that is what made my decide to introduce them. In the past I had encountered many of my nephews women, and all were beautiful, but on the inside they were cruel and spiteful, greedy and ignorant. I did not want my nephew possibly wedding a woman like that, it would put the entire family to shame and I would not allow it. Not only that, Marcellus needed to learn that all women weren't the same; and by presenting him with an independent, head strong personality, like Isadoras', I was sure that he would mature a bit more and reach his full potential.

* * *

BATIATUS POV:

"I knew it was only a matter of time before we came to Rome," I said, wrapping my arm around my wife as we looked over the city from the villa we would be residing in during the tournament. It was beautiful in every way, and exactly where I belonged.

"And in no time we will be living here, with you seated on the Senate." Lucretia grinned.

"You speak the truth. The Gods finally bless us and release ass from hand." I replied. My wife wrapped her arm around my waist and rested her head on my shoulder. I loved those moments; the ones of complete content that were irreplaceable and simple, but also captured the love we had for each other. We looked over the balcony of our villa, the perfect view of the center of Rome. The markets, theatres, and wine venues were there, filled with people in extravagant robes with pleasant company. I couldn't help but think that soon everything I looked over would partially be mine . . .that I would have control over those markets, those theatres . . .those people. With that power I would rocket through the sky and have a wealth that would battle that of Marcus Crassus.

"I spoke to Ilithyia before our departure." my wife said, broaching an uninteresting and irritating subject. I did not say anything since I truly had nothing to say. Lucretia looked up at me then back at the view of Rome. "She said that she would be returning to Rome as well for a short time." she continued.

"Isadora would be with her I presume?" I asked.

"Yes. She said that there was a very important matter that demanded Isadoras full attention." Lucretia replied. I scuffed. What business would Isadora have in Rome? After all, it was not to long ago that she was just a slave, and before that scavenging in the remnants of Carthage. Isadora had no tie to Rome whatsoever aside from her relation with Glaber, and I highly doubted he would involve her in the politics that he detested. This made me curious nonetheless. Ilithyia wasn't the type to lie about much, yes she bragged about everything under the sun, but she never necessarily lied to us. But that did not mean she wasn't a deceiving bitch; that I already knew very well, even before she convinced Glaber to have Isadora sent to his abode.

"Isadora has definitely come into her own since she joined sides with Ilithyia." I said more to myself than to my wife. However, that did not keep her from replying.

"Indeed. Ilithyia has a very mysterious ability of changing people." Lucretia replied, possibly speaking from experience.

"Wrong. Isadora was always tenacious and elegant; her position at the ludus only shrouded it. Ilithyia has given her the means to reach her full potential. That is what concerns me." Lucretia gave me a questioning look. "She is capable of much," I explained, "a woman such as Isadora could bring the world to her feet with but a glance."

"But she will not, you already know this." her grip tightened around my waist, "Isadora is not the kind of woman to bring others kneeling, even if it was to praise her. She is far to humble and dignified to allow it."

I agreed with her momentarily, but people changed. Who couldn't say that Isadora wouldn't become as power hunger and greedy as a man? She was unpredictable but also predictable at the same time. When presented with opportunity she took it; however, what she made of it was always a mystery that never unraveled. That was the woman to be fearful of. Unlike Ilithyia, Isadora didn't know what she wanted, and that made her a loose variable in my plans. Perhaps that is what I needed to do. Find out what Isadora desired most, present it to her in exchange for her services. I made it my number one priority to have audience with her once we returned back to Capua to find out exactly what my woman of interest desired in her heart of hearts. I was thrust from my thoughts with Lucretia tugged on my robe and pointed down toward the market.

"Is that not Marcellus?" she asked. I looked down to where she pointed, my eyes squinting to see who she pointed at, but eventually I did see.

"It appears so." I replied. "He is walking in the market absent servants or guard?" I watched as his figure appeared from under a tent. Marcellus stopped in the middle of the street, looking over his shoulder and gesturing for someone to come towards him.

"What is he doing?" my wife whispered as if someone would catch us spying on the soon to be Senate. I continued watching him, not paying attention to her. What was he doing? He was standing idly waiting for someone to come towards him. I finally noticed a guard stepping from under a tent as well with someone standing next to him. His hand was pressed to her back, looking this way and that as if an attack was expected on any moment. I leaned over the banister so that I could see the person. The stranger finally revealed themselves from under the tent and went to Marcellus' side. Confusion filled my like a tidal wave hitting the shore.

"I-is that Isadora?" my wife was just as flabbergasted as I. We stared at them, unblinking, mouths dry, open, bodies stiff, minds completely blank. "What is this?" Lucretia asked herself, finally gathering some semblance of sanity; however, I continued to watch them. "Is Marcellus the important matter Ilithyia spoke of?" Lucretia looked at me. My eyes began to sting from not blinking so I reluctantly looked away, fearful that they would disappear instantly. Ilithyia, that conniving bitch. Soon two and two started to come together as the put the pieces in their proper place.

"That fucking cunt." I hissed, my grip tightened on the banister, the wood splintering under my intense grip. Lucretias' expression hardened as she started to put the puzzle together as well.

"Marcellus . . .is the marry Isadora?" she said. I stood erect and looked down at the soon to be husband and wife.

"That bitch, I should have known. Why else would she bring Isadora with her to Rome aside from flaunting her?"

"What does this mean, Quintus? Would should happen if Isadora and Marcellus should marry? It would surely be the end of us, would it not?"

"Fuck!" I slapped my hand on the banister, which caused Lucretia to jump. "If they get married nothing will stop Ilithyia and Glaber from having our flesh ripped from bone. I should have known, I should have fucking known!"

"We cant let them get married." my wife replied calmly. I looked at her and saw that familiar expression and told me should already had a plan cooking up. She came to me and rubbed my back, calming me somewhat. "Ease your mind, Quintus. We will handle this how we always have. One of them must simply disappear, and then our problems will be solved."

"We are not dealing with a fucking commoner that no one gives a shit about, Lucretia. It's Marcellus, the fucking son of the Senate and nephew of the Magistrate." I chided. She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed my cheek.

"Marcellus is not watched over like an infant. He sneaks out to fuck whores and is erratic. Chance will present itself in due time and we shall take it."

* * *

ISADORA POV:

"What of your parents?" Marcellus asked. I twirled a piece of wool I plucked from a tattered stuffed animal from one of the kiosks between my finger, turning it into a fine string, only to unravel when I released my grasp. Marcellus was far more attractive than I would have ever believed, the statue I saw in the Magistrates abode did not do him justice. I felt a tinge of pain in my heart as I thought about this, but dismissed it quickly and looked at the man, covering my eyes from the sun.

"Gone, unfortunately." I replied.

"Apologies." his expression became grim.

"None required," I smiled. I knew much about him, yet he knew nothing about me; I could take a moment to indulge his curiosity. "My father was once a citizen of Rome, a merchant," his expression changed into confusion, but soon all the questions he did not voice would be answered, "however, he fled the city when he was accused of a crime he did not commit,"

"That's when he went to Carthage?" he asked.

"Yes." I nodded. "There he met my mother. They fell deeply in love, so I've been told. My mother died giving birth to me, I never met her." his expression fell at my words, "my father could not bear to look at me because I reminded him of her. And every year, the day of my birth would not be celebrated, because it was also the day of her death. Nonetheless, he loved me as a father loves a daughter; a bit more restrained, yes, but he loved me till the end."

"And what became of him?" Marcellus looked at me.

"He died," I looked at him. Marcellus slowed down, coming to a near stop. I stopped next to him so as not to be rude by proceeding. "he lost his life in one of the first Roman raids of Carthage." at my words Marcellus looked away, possibly feeling guilty for the death himself, even though he was not but a child like me when it happened.

"It must be difficult for you to be here." he assumed as he continued walking.

"Not at all," I smiled, "I quite enjoy it here. It happened when I was very young, I can hardly recall the memory. Besides, I do not dwell on the past . . .and I know my father would not want me to hold grudges over his death . . .he was far too proud for that." In all honesty it was very difficult for me to be there, in the country that led to my enslavement, living in the home land of the man that caused such a horrible life for me, the possibility of marrying a Roman, being away from Spartacus, I hated every dry, hot, second of the beautifully disgusting place.

"Your father seems like a noble man," Marcellus replied.

"I would not know. But I believe him to be." I replied. For a moment there was silence, just the simple time of each others company with the hustle and bustle of the city surroundings us: the yelling merchants, children running through the streets smiling and screaming, the negotiations of special items between the wealthy and poor. Such things could never be found in Capua, everything was distinctly separate. I looked at Marcellus from the corner of my eye and took the time to acknowledge his features. I recalled the statue and thought that it undeniably did not to the man justice, especially from the side. I wondered how many women looked at him from that angle and thought the same thing.

"I've heard from many that you are awfully . . .promiscuous, Marcellus" I said just to see his reaction. His whole body tightened slightly, only to loosen with a smile.

"Well I certainly hoped you have not listened to them, Isadora. I would hate to find that you are a woman that believes everything she is told . . ." he grinned at me. I released a stressed laugh.

"Most find that I do not; nonetheless, there are always grounds to such rumors." I replied.

"Of jealous fools," he said behind a covered hand.

"Why would people be jealous of you?"

"Why wouldn't they be?" he laughed somewhat, "I'm handsome, wealthy, come from a good family, have a fantastic future, and am in the company of the most beautiful woman in the world that . . ." his words fell short suddenly.

"That what?" I asked. Marcellus stopped in the middle of the street and turned to me, looking at me completely. He looked into my eyes and something was there, something that could not be explained, only felt, only seen. I suddenly felt extremely awkward from his staring; "What is it? Do I have something on my face?" I wiped away a few stray hairs that grazed my cheeks. Logic seemed to hit him on the head at that moment.

"It's nothing." Marcellus smiled. "Let us head back." he continued walking as I followed slowly behind him; in that instant something flew into my right eye that was blinding me completely. I blinked rapidly countless time to remove the unwanted particle from my eye; my eye watered and became extremely irritated and red. I wiped and rubbed my eye; however, it only seemed to make it worse. I completely stopped walking, not able to move a step forward from my impairment and frustrated complex. I could hear Marcellus calling for me in the distance, but I could not see him. My patience and frustration peaked as my eye began burning and tears ran down my cheeks, desperately trying to relieve the pain and agitation the unknown attacker was causing.

The voices around me were becoming louder and louder until eventually I hear the shrilling scream of a woman not far from me. The ground shook beneath my feet, I could hear the sound of rushing wheels from a cart heading strait toward me, the hooves of horse sprinting at me, the shouts and struggles of the driver to take control of the cart again. I pulled my hands away from my eyes and turned to my right, opening my eyes just as the rampant carriage was only yards away from me. For an instant my heart dropped, the irritation I had once felt was completely gone, the thought of Marcellus, Spartacus, Ilithyia, or any stresses I had felt at all were gone. I was going to be run over by the cart, the horse was going to trample over me, the rigid, rough wheels of the cart were going to crush me (if the horse didn't).

That is what filled my thoughts in the moments before I was going to do. My life did not flash before my eyes, or the possible future I could have had with Spartacus or Marcellus, our children, what our wedding would have been like, did not cross my mind at all. Only the horrible cold fact of what would happen to me once I fell to the mercy of the frightened creating sprinting towards me at full speed. I blinked, the particle that aggravated my eye was gone, and I felt the impact abruptly. I was not as harsh as I expected it to be. It was lighter, less forced. My body collided against the ground roughly after the hit, and I waited for the cart wheels, I waited for them eyes closed, waiting for them to crush me . . .but they never came. I opened my eyes and was confused at what I saw. Something was hovering over me, but I couldn't see it, the background behind it was too bright, almost blindingly so, causing the figure to look very dark. However, it was only a matter of time before my eyes adjusted and I could see the figure, which wasn't really a figure at all (to my surprise), but a man.

His breathing was heavy, practically panting for air, and his body hovered over mine as he braced his weight by resting on his elbows on either side of my head. His hair was long and fell over his face and the nape of his neck, his eyes the lightest brown, practically matching the color of his hair. His eyebrows were thick and matched his hair, stubble of a growing beard lined his jaw and crept down his neck. His lips were thin, in contrast to mine, but inviting. It was at that moment I realized I wasn't under the cart. I wasn't dead because of that man. He pulled me out of the way just in time. From his heavy breathing I assumed that he was quite the distance away when he saw me, and ran towards me as fast as he could, having not time to slow down to grab me and pull me away. Instead he collided into me with force, which led us to the ground. I also noticed that my breathing was haggard and heavy as well: aftershock. My body shook slightly as a result.

"Who are you?" I asked. It probably wasn't the first thing someone said to the person that saved them, but I had to know. The man looked at me for the first time, his breath finally returning to him and relaxed his body slightly. His eyes were gentle, but mysterious. He sucked in a deep breath then exhaled it just as quickly as he filled his lungs.

"Gannicus." he said. "Gannicus."


	17. Chapter 17: Eyes

**Chapter 17: Eyes**

"Thank you for having us this evening, Magistrate." I said, looking down at the end of the table at the uncle of Marcellus.

"Gratitude for accepting the invitation. I know you are very busy and prefer not to spend your time with an old man." he joked. We laughed lightly at the comment and continued eating; however, I could not help but continuously look at the guest sitting next to me . . .the man that saved my life. After everything was set right and the cart was stopped and the "driver" came and apologized a million times, Marcellus and I were about to depart; however, I insisted that we invite Gannicus for dinner or some sort of event to show our appreciation toward him. From where I sat, Marcellus was seated directly across from me, with Ilithyia on his left, Gannicus was seated to my right and the Magistrate to my left, also to the right of Marcellus. "I was surprised and terrified when I heard the news of your encounter with death. I must say that my heart nearly stopped at the though of you leaving this world only to reside with Pluto." the Magistrate bit into a large chicken leg.

"It was very frightening; however, the Gods prevented such a tragedy by presenting Gannicus." I replied with a smile.

"Who we are very thankful for," Ilithyia added. Ever since our little scene in the market she became quite distant and hardly spoke to me. I supposed that no one had ever questioned our in the open and so plainly, and to receive it from the one she supposedly only cared for, save her husband, was more than a shock to her.

"Any other would have done the same." Gannicus replied.

"I don't know if you noticed, Gannicus, but others simply stood their as if waiting for it to rain." Marcellus chided somewhat, I assumed that he was angry at the other citizens for not taking action sooner and at himself for being at such a distance that he was unable to obtain me before the cart did . . .or before Gannicus did.

"Nonetheless," I add, taking Gannicus' hand in mine and smiling at him, "you saved me, and in all honesty, I would have it be no one other than you." I tried to mitigate the strange tension that was building in the hall.

"What does that mean?" Ilithyias eyes narrowed at me. I knew what she was thinking. She thought that I had grown attached to Gannicus in the short time we had known each other and was beginning to lose interest in Marcellus. That was possible, but not entirely true, after all, I was faithful to someone else. I would not be swayed by Gannicus so easily . . .even if he was extremely different from Spartacus. I released his hand and adjusted the napkin on my lap.

"Did you see the rest of the citizens? None of them were in proper shape to run and move me out of the way of the cart. If one of them had I would be under the wheels instead of dining with all of you, because they were too fat and would have died of a heart attack before reaching me." I smiled.

"There is truth to your words." Gannicus laughed, drinking from his wine. I copied his motion and looked at him from the corner of my eye, hiding a smile as I took a drink and placed the tumbler back on the table.

"So, Gannicus," the Magistrate put his silverware done, possibly done eating and ready to have a serious discussion, and clasped his hands together in front of him in interest. "What do you do?"

"Do?" he replied, somewhat confused.

"What is your profession?" the Magistrate rephrased his question.

"Ohh!" Gannicus said in exclamation, finally understanding, "a bit of this and that, I never stay at one place for to long."

"So you're an entrepreneur." he gleamed at the idea, as if being one was far better than being a part of the senate.

"Not exactly." Gannicus corrected. I began to ignore their conversation, not really caring for what they talked about, and turned my attention to Marcellus. I had not looked at him or paid any mind to time in a while, so I was surprised to see him staring intently at me, no in an intimidating fashion, but with a promiscuous demeanor that I assumed he used on countless women before me. I could understand why so many would fall at his feet, he had everything. Most women were money hungry and desperate to elevate their status; however, I could not be counted among them. I did not need nor want the lavish lifestyle that he could give me, it would only create more problems. I preferred simplicity while others sought out drama.

I crossed my legs under the table, feeling my buttocks become numb from sitting in the same position for too long, and accidentally grazed Marcellus' leg with my foot. I gave an apologetic look, not wanting to interrupt the Magistrate; however, he misinterpreted it completely. Instead he took it as an invitation, resting his hand on my knee under the table while maintaining a stoic expression while listening to his uncle. I slid his hand off my knee nonchalantly and recrossed my legs, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable.

"And a wife?" the Magistrate asked Gannicus.

"No, sir." he replied.

"Really?" Ilithyia barked somewhat. "You have no wife?" she appeared amazed at the fact.

"I too am surprised," I added, looking at him.

"It seems you have gained much interest from the two ladies." the Magistrate grinned.

"It appears so," Marcellus said under his breath.

"Why are you unmarried, Gannicus?" Ilithyia asked with no shame whatsoever. Gannicus was hesitant to answer, I could tell, but to Ilithyia he was building suspense for his reply. His figure became very stiff and he clanked his silverware against the plate in boredom and awkwardness. His expression was frustrated but also nostalgic. I knew that expression. I had seen it countless times and even did it myself . . .there was a woman; however, she was not with him. I took his hand in mine again and smiled.

"I understand." I said simply.

* * *

**Marcellus POV: **

The man saved her life and for that I was grateful, but now I was becoming extremely aggravated. Isadora was completely oblivious to my presence, she would glance at me every now and then and smile, and then rub her foot against my leg, and when I took the opportunity to become intimate with her, (in a sense) she rejected me! I looked at the hand she held on the table, the tender look in her eyes as she stared at Gannicus, not a moment ago she was looking at me that way. Was she swayed so easily be the man simply because he saved her? I understood that her life was on the line; however, how could she just ignore me? As if we made no connection earlier that day? As if I were insignificant?

My foot tapped on the ground in agitation as I watched Isadora with that fucking Gannicus, I wanted nothing more than to sever his hand that held hers and feed it to the pigs.

"Understand what exactly?" I asked in response to Isadoras statement. At my words she removed her hand from his, I suppressed a grin and looked at her expectantly. "Understand what exactly?" I repeated. I knew I was being an ass; however, I was incapable of helping myself. Isadora was not paying attention to me and giving all of it to a man she met only a few hours ago. All the tenderness and kindness she should have been showing me was being wasted on him. Compared to me he was nothing and did not deserve even a gram of her affection.

"Love." she said, "I understand that love is complicated and never is what it seems, or does what we would like it to do, or be what we want it to be. Love is . . .unpredictable."

"And he told you all of this?" my voice came off a bit more sarcastic than I intended.

"Yes. I saw it in his eyes."

"His eyes?" I scuffed, slouching back in my seat. "What can you find in eyes aside from colors and shapes?"

"You would be amazed how much the eyes can reveal about a person." as she said this her eyes narrowed at me slightly. Her words felt like an attack, directed towards me. There was undeterred eye contact for seconds that felt like years, neither submitting to the other; however, I had the uncanny feeling that Isadora was not battling with me at all, just making a statement by keeping the contact. I began to wonder what she saw in my eyes, did she see the handsome, wealthy young man that was going to take his seat in the Senate in a few short years . . .or something else? Something much deeper that I had no even realized about myself.

Her eyes frightened me. They made my heart shake. It was as if she were looking right through me, all of my facades, all of my lies and secrets, down to the very core of my being. I looked away, not longer able to bear what she might have discovered inside of me.

My uncle cleared his throat and made a comment about the day being long and how we all deserve a good nights rest. Everyone agreed and we deserted the table, the servants going to it quickly to clear it up. Isadora departed to her room along side Ilithyia and my uncle took Gannicus, placing his arm over his shoulder and talked to him while walking to the balcony. I was left alone. Eventually, Isadora was out of sight, arrangements had been made when we arrived at my house for her and Ilithyia to stay the night since their villa was so far away, so I sauntered over to where my uncle and Gannicus were. I stood just outside the balcony opening, hidden by darkness, listening to their conversation that I could hear very clearly.

"I am truly grateful to you, Gannicus." my uncle said. "Isadora . . .she is very precious to me."

"Is she family, sir?" he asked.

"No, but soon. Very soon." he replied.

"She is to marry . . .Marcellus?" Gannicus asked. Damn right she was going to marry me, who else would it be? I thought.

"It is hoped for," my uncle sighed, "it is high time my nephew married; I have waited years to find the perfect woman for him since his father was incapable of doing so. Now she has presented herself. And to think, all this time she was under the Lanista's care." he laughed softly in amazement I assumed.

"Lanista? Who?" I could hear Gannicus' voice constrict somewhat, which surprised me only a little.

"Quintus Lentulus Batiatus in Capua. He is a fine man for taking her in. However, given his profession I would have much rather had Isadora be under the care of a more . . .civilized man." Isadora resided with a Lanista? Not only that, but Batiatus of Capua, who was now in Rome for the games. How would a woman such as Isadora find herself in the company of a Lanista? Let alone living with one? This confused me but also sparked curiosity.

"She . . ." there was a pause, "resided in the ludus? With Batiatus and his wife?"

"Yes. Do you know them?" my uncle asked. There was a long moment of silence.

"No." Gannicus replied sharply, "I've only heard much about them."

"I see."

"Apologies, Magistrate; however, I am unable to stay the rest of the evening."

"Why on earth not?" my uncles voice increased a few octaves, displaying his obvious discontent and rejection of the notion.

"I had a prior engagement this evening that I must attend to. It is of the utmost importance." Gannicus replied. I visualized my uncle nodding his head in disapproval but understanding.

"Very well then, I well have the servants prepare a carriage for you so that you may be on your way. They will take you anywhere you please." my uncle replied. I heard them coming and quickly made my way down the hall and flattened my back against it (I was hiding in my own house, unbelievable). They passed by, my uncles arm wrapped around Gannicus' shoulder again. "You are a good man, Gannicus. The Gods will bless you for what you have done and I am forever grateful." my uncle smiled. Gannicus only nodded and eventually both went their separate ways. Gannicus headed toward the chamber that was supposed to be his for the night.

* * *

**Gannicus POV: **

It took me a very long time to process what the Magistrate said to me: Isadora was under the care of Batiatus. The man was once my master, and I was once his most valued possession. The memories of my previous life filled my thoughts; the blood I spilt, the men I killed, the victories, but also the tragedies. I grabbed my cloak from the bed, put it on, feeling the overwhelming need to get out of the suffocating villa. I exited my chamber and quietly closed the door behind me, knowing the carriage would be ready soon, but not wanting to take it: I needed a walk. I put the hood over my head and started down the corridor.

I did not know what to do. Isadora was interesting and she read me very easily even though we had only known each other for a short time. However, she was already extremely complicated: she was affiliated with Batiatus, who I had completely cut ties with, she was the marry Marcellus who would be a part of the Senate very soon, and she was an upper class woman. Those kind of women were always complicated.

I finally found the servant entrance and quickly went outside, breathing in the fresh air, filling my lungs, also clearing my mind. The door closed behind me; however, it reopened just as fast as it closed. I turned around only to see another cloaked figure behind me, quietly shutting the door behind them. Their back was facing me as they struggled to close the door without it creaking for giving them away. Once finally shut, the stranger turned around an practically jumped back at the sight of me. It was a woman, I could tell by the height and how the cloak hung unflatteringly around her body. I crossed my arms over my chest and looked at her; however, I hood covered her face, so I pretended to know who it was.

"Were you following me?" my tone was harsh and intimidating.

"By no means!" she barked back. She removed the hood and I was surprised, for the thousandth time that day, to see Isadora standing before me, her back pressed against the door.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"I should be asking you the same." she replied. I looked around, we were in a deserted ally, so the chances of us being caught and apprehended by the guards were very unlikely. "Are you leaving?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Without a goodbye?" her expression fell slightly, she seemed disappointed. The conversation I had with the Magistrate was still fresh in my mind and I didn't feel like speaking to her. When I saw her all I could see was Batiatus, the ludus, and my entire past thrust right into my face. I turned on my heel and exited the ally, looking left and right before entering the main street, which was very empty. I could hear Isadora following behind me. "Did I do something wrong?" Isadora asked. I ignored her and started to walk faster; however, she was adamant on keeping up with me. "I cannot apologies if I am unaware of what has been done, Gannicus." I could hear her breath coming out in quick short bursts, she was having a difficult time keeping in stride with my steps.

"What are you doing out here?" I turned around so quickly that it caught her off guard and she stumbled back a little. When I looked at her again she had the hood on.

"I needed fresh air. I was suffocating. And what about you?" she looked at me expectantly. For a moment I was captivated by her eyes, the way they glistened in the moonlight, how the constellations reflected in them like a pool of water. I remembered what she said to Marcellus at the dinner table, about how the eyes can tell one practically everything.

"What you said at dinner . . .what did you see . . .in my . . .eyes?" I asked, verbalizing the thoughts before I even realized it. Something flickered in her eyes, something beautiful that made me want to embrace her and want to understand.

"I saw that there was a woman. However, life intervened and you could not be with her . . .or she was taken from you. I saw that you loved deeply and truthfully, but your heart was ripped from your chest nonetheless. And now you harbor that pain with you everyday. That is what I saw in your eyes." Isadora answered. She was right, somewhat, but she was right.

"And what do you see now?" I asked.

"What I saw before; however, something is lurking inside you, something that wants release. I also see something that is curious." she smiled. "Am I right? Or am I wrong?" she asked.

"What is your affiliation with Batiatus?" I asked before I could control myself. My curiosity and frustration of the situation got the better of me. Nonetheless, I was not prepared for Isadoras reaction. Her expression became mortified, and her body tense and rigid. I would not have expected such a reaction from an upper class woman that lived with one of the most popular lanistas in Capua. Her eyes looked everywhere, frantic almost, as if someone were watching her. She swallowed past a prominent lump that build in her throat and finally looked at me.

"Who told you about him?" she asked, her voice a whisper.

"The Magistrate." I replied in the same whisper.

"He knows?" she struggled to keep her voice down, obviously she wasn't aware that the Magistrate knew about her living with Batiatus. I nodded my head. "He knows." her voice wavered, "then-then why would he still allow me to marry Marcellus?" she stuttered. "If he knows then why would he bring me here? How could he possibly approve of my predicament? Of my past?" she was talking to herself.

"What do you mean?" I asked, now completely and utterly confused.

"The Magistrate knows about Batiatus!" she barked, finally losing her mind, so it appeared. "Why hasn't he said anything to me? Why is he seeing this through, he knows that I am not to woman he expected me to be, I'm a fake, a liar. I am not suitable for Marcellus in any way!" Isadora was becoming erratic. She continued to panic and rant about how she was not the woman everyone believed her to be, how she was a phony that would be sentenced to death for being elevated and cheating people. It became completely unbearable, and right when she was on the verge of tears I grabbed her by the shoulders and pressed her against the nearest wall, leveling my face to hers.

"Who are you then?" I asked. Isadora looked at me confused and sniffling. "Who are you, Isadora?" I asked again, this time far more serious. If she was a fake and a liar like she said she was, then who had I saved from the cart? Who was the Isadora I shared dinner with? The Isadora who told me what she saw in my eyes? The Isadora that challenged Marcellus? The Isadora that was loved by the Magistrate? . . .who was the real Isadora?

"A slave." she trembled. "I am a slave in a wealthy woman's clothes."

* * *

**BATIATUS POV: **

I swallowed back the bile that built in my throat before it could find its way to the ground at my feet. I could see them clearly from wear I stood and was filled with an insurmountable rage. I clamped my hand down on Ashurs shoulders, holding it their in a vice grip. I could hear the man wincing under my hold, but I gave no shit for him. The events that were unfolding before me were far to much for me to handle in one day. Earlier I found the Marcellus was to marry Isadora, and before me, in the darkness of the night, only lighted by the moon, I saw Isadora with Gannicus. My fucking Gannicus.

"I thought he left Rome completely." Ashur said through clenched teeth.

"Unfortunately no." I watched as the events unfolded before my eyes. Words were shared that I was unable to hear, but then they embraced and Gannicus took Isadoras hand in his and with caution, diligently led her away from the villa until they disappeared completely from sight. "Follow them." I commanded Ashur, "Do not be seen, do not be heard. Report everything that happens at first light at the villa. Don't you dare fucking come back until then."

"Yes, Dominus." I released Ashur and soon he was off, following quickly behind them. I untied my cloak and let the cold air hit me. Isadora had everyone wrapped around her fucking finger. That was the last straw I had with her. I never knew her to be so deceptive; however, I never expected her to be a conniving unpredictable whore. Marcellus was under her thumb and Gannicus was the lover on the side. Who would have known that Isadora really wasn't a virgin at all with how well she played her innocence? She was for more dangerous than I believed her to be, as was Gannicus. I knew that he held an controlled rage towards the ludus; however, placed under the right hand that rage could be used to exterminate me. Both of them had more than enough reasons to want me dead, as did the rest of the world.

Isadora was many moves ahead in the game; however, it was my turn.


	18. Chapter 18: Stop Me

**A/N: Reviews=Love :) thank ya**

**Chapter 18: "Stop Me"**

"Why should I tell you anything?" I asked, looking up at him from the bed. He hovered over me, like an ominous figure, his arms crossed over his hard chest, his hair a tangled mess around his face, his stance strong and feet planted to the ground. I gripped the tin tumbler filled with water in my hand. I never found a man so intimidating, yet fascinating at the same time such as Gannicus. He was completely different from the rest . . .I did not have to try so hard to be myself or express my feelings around him. This frightened me somewhat, that I could be more open with him, a complete stranger, than with my closest friend. Then again . . .I did not have friends, save Leta. There was no one I could divulge my deepest insecurities, secrets, or desire to. No one. "And don't say it is because you saved my life." I added quickly.

"You are hiding something from everyone." Gannicus said, "And I can see it is destroying you, clear as day."

"You know nothing about me." I scuffed, "You saved my life but that is all, Gannicus. Do not act as if such a deed would allow you to become a part of my life anymore than you already have."

"But I have already, haven't I?" his eyes narrowed at me, waiting for my response. Gannicus stepped to me, stopping just a foot or so away from me. He stood there, looking down at my while I craned my neck up to observe him. Next he stepped to the side and sat down next to me. "Why else would you have allowed me to lead you to my house at such an hour? Unattended." there was a pause, "You want to tell me."

"No I don't." I said more quickly than I should have. My nerves were beginning to rattle with the close proximity of our bodies.

"Answer this then: do desire to marry Marcellus?" Gannicus asked. I looked at him for the first time since he sat down next to me. Why would he ask such a question? What would compel him to ask? And why did he know about it? It disturbed me just how much my savior knew about my life during the short time he entered it. If he knew about the marriage, I wondered what else he knew. Nonetheless, the question did make me think. Marcellus was attractive, kind, intelligent, wealthy, charming, and entertaining; however, there was something about him, something unsettling that made me wary of the man. Perhaps it was the minor scene during dinner, when I had a taste of the other side of him. After all, he still was a complete stranger and I hardly knew anything about him. And, at the end of the day, I did not trust Marcellus.

"I have no intention of becoming his wife." I answered. Maybe if I trusted Marcellus I would have been more open to the prospect, but that fact was that I didn't; therefore, I could not bring myself to it.

"Then why are you here? Entertaining him?" he asked. I smoothed out my dress along my thighs.

"It's a long story . . .you wouldn't understand." I replied. I clasped my hands together on my lap, suddenly hating where the conversation turned and feeling very awkward.

"Perhaps, but I know a trapped animal when I see one."

"I am not trapped." I lied.

"You said to me earlier that you are a slave. What did that mean?" Gannicus observed my every move, which made me extremely uncomfortable and conscious of my actions. I felt that any movement would give me away, divulge all of my secrets. However, I couldn't bring myself to lie to him completely, so I only told him half of the truth.

"My only desire is to see others happy . . .because of that I become servants to them, completing their every whim so that they may be content. It is a curse. I cannot help myself."

"And what makes you happy?" he asked.

"What?" I asked confused.

"What makes you happy?" he repeated. I did not know what to say. What did make me happy? What filled me to the brim with joy with just the thought of it? Of course, my first thought should have been Spartacus, but it was not. In fact, nothing came to mind. The key to my happiness was a mystery, something I had never discovered, or searched for really. It was strange being asked such a question. It was like being asked why the sky was blue or why the grass was green. They were that way simply because they were, no explanation was required. They are because they are.

"I don't know. I have never been asked that." I replied. Gannicus looked at me with the most peculiar expression that was a mix between curiosity and pity. It was possible that he pitied me because I did not know what made me happy, or because I could not tell him. Gannicus moved to replace the strap of my dress, which had slid down my shoulder and hung loosely, back snuggly against my skin. The minor contact made my body quake, the familiar touch of rough hard working hands.

"You truly are trapped." Gannicus said to himself, the same mix of pity and curiosity and his eyes.

"I should take my leave." I released a shuddering breath and stood up, heading toward the door, when I felt a firm hand on my elbow, turning me around. His hand stayed there while the other moved to my waist; my eyes stayed fixed on his chest which was directly in front of me: I could not bring myself to look at him. His body was pressed faintly against mine, ghosting against my robes, but still that was more than enough. I could feel the muscles tremble and move in his torso as he breathed, sense the tenseness in his arms as he held me, smell the scent of a man who did hard work for a living. In the silence of his room, the only audible sound was the intertwining of our breaths, his were long and relaxed, and his chest rose and fell with each one.

Gannicus was waiting for me to look at him. He wanted me to look at him. Why, I had no idea why he was doing it. Why he kept his grip on my elbow and his hand on my waist, why he didn't close the antagonizing distance between us, or why he didn't tilt my head up like men usually did when they desired to look into the eyes of a woman who was set at staring at the ground. I didn't know any of it. But it was not until that instant that I looked at him that I knew exactly why he made no effort to make me meet his eyes. I had chosen by my own will to regard him. I made the decision to acknowledge him as well as his intentions. I chose to give into my desires for him, to tell him that I accept him . . .and that I wanted him. I knew, and Gannicus knew, before we went to his house he had already given himself to his desires, convinced himself of them, he was just waiting for me.

We stood there, gazing into each others eyes, wondering at what would happen next. The hand on my elbow disappeared and rested relaxed at his side, the one of my waist; however, kept me in place. His hair was a complete mess around his face, due to the cloak, so I moved to smooth it back, combing my fingers through it so that it would be somewhat tame and appear pulled back. Gannicus grabbed my wrist abruptly just as I was pulling my hand away, it was only a few centimeters away from his face. The expression of his face from earlier had changed, no longer did he look at me with pity and curiosity, but instead, of what appeared to be, pure wonder. Never had I seen a man look at me with such awe, as if I were a distant star that he could not fathom. His eyes flickered from my lips then back to my eyes, before finally resting on my lips again.

"Gannicus," I warned. He made no notion that he heard me. His lips gingerly lowered to mine until I felt the lightest, softest flower petal graze against my lips. Then, like a siren, a crash of pottery erupted just outside the walls, jarring me awake and pulling me from the dream. I tremor of fear and exhilaration ran through me as I jumped back from Gannicus quickly and left, putting the hood over my head as I ran back to the house of Marcellus.

* * *

**GANNICUS POV:**

To say that I was restless would be a understatement. I was unnerved. I was completely wired. Every cell in my body was buzzing, vibrating, going on a adrenaline rush. For hours I tried to close my eyes, hoping that sleep would come to me and ease my frenzied heart; however, it never came, and I was left with agonizing anticipation. Even so, I knew that if I slept Isadora would fill my dreams.

I remembered how her breath felt against my chest: faint and ghosting over me. The scent of her lingered on my clothes, which I did not dare remove. I threw the blankets off of me and sat up on the bed, my feet touching the cold floor. I could not get Isadora out of my head, it was horrible, but I also never wanted her to leave the place she secured in my brain. I stood up and paced across the room, combing my fingers through my hair with restlessness. Feeling somewhat parched I exited my room and silently crept toward the kitchen in the quiet villa. After Isadora left I made an effort not to follow her; however, the dangers of the streets kept me from doing so and I found my way back to the residence. As soon as I arrived I bumped into the Magistrate, who told me he sent servants to look for me, but to no avail, and went to search for me himself; also that he just spoke to Isadora who was resting as we spoke. He told me the carriage was ready; however, I told him it would no longer be required and he was ecstatic at by decision to stay.

The house was warm and humid when I entered the kitchen, with nothing but a small sheet tied around my waist. I found a stack of tumblers on the counter a grabbed one, filling it with a jug of water and drinking it slowly, leaning against the counter. I could hear the sounds of nature: various animals and bugs, the wind, the creaking of the house. It was somewhat therapeutic. I finished my water, feeling fatigued and sore from the day and placed the tumbler along with the rest. Just as I was exiting the kitchen, a shrouded figure entered the doorway, blocking it completely. When it stepped into the light, I was surprised to see Ilithyia.

"Restless as well?" she asked, not really acknowledging me as she went to do exactly what I just did only moments ago.

"Yes."

"You had an eventful day." she replied, drinking her water and not really looking at me. She seemed unbelievably bored and uninterested in me or in life in general. "You saved a woman, had dinner with prestigious men, most would feel privileged and gracious for the opportunities." my eyes narrowed at her in the darkness.

"You speak as if I have not shown gratitude for their kindness." I said.

"Then I suppose many guests leave abruptly without showing such gratitude?" her remark was sarcastic. How did she know I left? Surely Isadora didn't tell her, or the fact that she was with me. Was Ilithyia wandering the halls just as I was leaving, possibly allowing her to see me when I passed her to head toward the servants entrance. In that case, perhaps she did see Isadora.

"What do you want?" I asked, annoyed and frustrated with her presence. Ilithyia placed the tumbler on the counter and sauntered over to me, her hips swaying left and right as if she were trying to seduce me.

"Stay away from Isadora." she said. So the bitch had seen us.

"I don't know what your talking about." I lied.

"I saw how you looked at her at dinner, you couldn't keep your eyes off of her. Even while sharing words with the Magistrate you could not help yourself. I know the look in the eyes of a man when he desires something, Gannicus . . .and the desire you have . . .it's impractical." Ilithyia walked around me and left the kitchen, leaving me alone completely. So, I thought, it was very possible that she did not see Isadora and I together, since all she mention was dinner. However, that was not to say she did either. I knew that while I was in Isadora's presence, at the villa, and involved with the woman in anyway, that I would have to be very careful.

* * *

**MARCELLUS POV:**

I was more than happy when I found out Gannicus was leaving. I wanted nothing more than to get rid of the bastard who ogled at Isadora nonstop through out the day. Yes, he saved her life. Yes, I owed him in a sense. Yes, Isadora was thankful to him and showed her gratitude with gargantuan kindness and sincerity. And yes, I wanted him out of my life and her life as soon as possible so that we may start on ours.

Isadora was a fantastic woman, one that any man would want to have as his wife, and I knew that many men indeed had their eye on her. It would only be a matter of time before she found someone she was keenly interested in and pursue them. It was my objective to make sure that person was me. She was everything a man wanted in a woman: loving, caring, strong, powerful, seductive, submissive, obedient, beautiful, independent, intelligent, desired, envied, and talented in the bed (which I hoped to find out soon enough). My father always told me that if you really wanted to know a man, look at his wife. A mans wife encapsulates everything about him that one would need to know, whether or not he is ambitious, greedy, sneaky, smart, and even what his social class is. Isadora would be the perfect representation of me and I knew my father would approve very much.

The sun had not been up to long when I finally decided to get out of bed, I could already hear the servants setting the table for breakfast, which I was looking forward to very much. I had the whole day planed for Isadora and I. The training for the gladiators before the tornamnet had commenced, and I was sure that she would enjoy seeing the brutes that would be sent to their deaths, save one. After that we would leave for lunch, possibly all do some minor shopping for her, return for dinner, and then have the rest of the night to ourselves. It was going to be romantic and idealistic for her, that I was sure of. Isadora would never be more pampered and cared for before in her life compared to what I had in store for her. I had a bath made and quickly washed up, excited for the day to come, and was assisted with my robes. I tousled my hair a bit, combing my fingers through it and shaking it out as I did every morning and exited my room.

The halls were filled with servants, scurrying every which way with various trays and tumblers and carts with food and other objects I did not recognize. It made me wonder if there was some special occasion happening that day that I was uninformed about. I quickened my pace down the hall and entered the foyer, surprised to see all of my guests there, speaking to each other. Isadora was sharing words with my uncle, who stood right in front of her with his back facing me, while Ilithyia was chiming in every now and then with a comment, as she stood adjacent to my uncle so that I could only see her profile. At the sight of Isadora a smile cracked my face, seeing her so radiant and beautiful. I took a step forward, and just as I did, another person entered the foyer. One I had not expected. Gannicus stood between Isadora and my uncle, opposite of Ilithyia. Calavius introduced the topic of discussion to Gannicus and asked him what he thought, instead of answering, Gannicus shoot his head and his right hand in objection to answering the question. Instead, from where I stood, I could see him asking Calavius a question, my uncle nodded, Ilithyia's figure tensed suddenly, and I watched Gannicus take Isadora's hand in his and lead her out of the foyer.

Ilithyia crossed her arms over her chest and smiled at Calavius while he spoke to her.

"Why is he still here?" I asked as I approached them, the smile I once had replaced with disgust and hatred.

"Marcellus," my uncle chided, "that is no way to speak of a guest who saved your soon to be wife."

"He said he would leave last night." I replied. Shit. Why did I have to say that. My uncles eyes narrowed at him as he crossed her arms over his chest and stepped to me.

"And how do you know this?" he had caught me eavesdropping before, on his last few visits, he was not to happy about it on any of the occasion.

"He told me; this is my house, it is my right to know who leaves and enters." my voice was stern.

"I suppose." Calavius replied. "Nonetheless, his plans changed abruptly and he stayed."

"And where has Gannicus taken Isadora?"

"For a walk. He desired her company and she accepted." he replied. I cursed under my breath and headed in the direction I last saw them, they could not have gotten far. "Do not start breakfast until they return." I yelled over my shoulder as I went on the search for my lovely Isadora and that fucking pig Gannicus.

* * *

**ISADORA POV: **

"It think it would be wise if you left." I said. My back was pressed against a cold wall and Gannicus stood only a foot away from me. We stood in a tight narrow space that could be considered a hall in some cases; however, hardly an entire person could walk down it because of the confined location. When he lead me away from the Magistrate and Ilithyia, saying that he had something very important to tell me, I believed it to be bad news. However, I was surprised when he took me to various servant quarters and tucked me inside the secret hall we stood in, covered in darkness, completely isolated, secluded. I could not see his face or figure, only hear his breath. I knew nothing good could cold come of this.

"Why?" his voice was so sexy and seductive. I could feel my body lurch forward at the sound since my sight was hindered, which heightened my sense of hearing. "Do I make you uncomfortable?" again with the sensual voice.

"Yes." I replied. Honestly, if I had been in that situation with anyone it would have made me uncomfortable, the fact that it was Gannicus made it even more so.

"Good." I could hear him moving around, but not toward me. My legs began to shake and I had to concentrate to control my erratic breathing. I should have left when I had the chance. I wished he stayed at his house and never came back to torment me. I wanted him to leave, then and there, and just let me be in peace.

"Do not think falsely of me, Gannicus," I started, "I never would have kissed you last night."

"Really?" his voice was sarcastic and challenging.

"Yes." I controlled my voice.

"So if that interruption from outside my house had not scared you off, you would have stopped me?" he asked.

"Yes."

"I don't believe you."

"Well you should." my voice came out harsh.

"You don't even believe it." his body pressed against mine suddenly in the confined space. The heat from his skin burned me and I could feel every muscle and curve of his body against mine. His hand found the back of my thigh and hitched it on his waist, pressing himself flush against me.

"What are you doing?" my voice was urgent with surprise and fear, not so much of him, but more of what would happen. I pushed my hands against his chest in an effort to push him; however, he didn't budge an inch, and the action only caused him to move his other hand to the small of my back and force me closer to him.

"There's no one to interrupt us; stop me."

"Gannicus," a small plea for him to realize what exactly he was doing and get him to stop.

"Stop me, Isadora." his voice was pure lust as he moved my hips in circles around his erection. This control of my body he had was stimulating a very sensitive part of my body that I did not want to be stimulated. A whimper escaped me as my body caved around him. "Gannicus," I pleaded again, hoping that he would stop so that nothing would happen, so that I wouldn't do anything I would regret with him. His lips ghosted over my neck and found my ear lobe, which he faintly grazed before saying: "Stop me."

**A/N: Thanks for reading! Remember Reviews=Love!**


	19. Chapter 19: Void

**_Chapter 19: Void_**

I wished he had never saved me. I wish that horse had trampled over me; I wish that I rolled under the cart; I wished the hard rigged wheels had crushed my skull so that I would never experience this anguish. Life was about temptation; however, it was also a choice of which temptation you chose. I had already chosen Spartacus. My kind, strong, sentimental, Spartacus. He was the temptation I chose to indulge in. Nonetheless, the Gods were not easily entertained and became bored quickly. They decided to present me with another temptation, one that was practically irresistible. One that I could hardly control myself around, one that I was itching to become mine. I felt absolutely horrible as I thought about Spartacus and Gannicus in such a manner. Why did Gannicus have to save me? Why couldn't he stand back like the rest? Why couldn't a fat merchant with no teeth save me? Why did it have to be charming, kind, handsome, sexy . . ._stop Isadora. _I shook my head, shaking the thoughts away as well. I could not deny that my pulse raced, my mind fogged, my body heated, my breathing became uncontrollable, and a strong desire overwhelmed me whenever Gannicus touched me. It reminded me of when I first met Spartacus.

The room was terribly quiet, or it was just me that was quiet, because from where I sat at the table for breakfast, Ilithyia sat next to my left, the Magistrate at the head of the table, Gannicus sat to the left of the Magistrate, and Marcellus sat directly across from me. Isadora and the Magistrate were speaking, Gannicus and Marcellus spoke every now and then while I kept to myself; after my encounter with Gannicus I was afraid to utter a word.

"_Stop me." he whispered, trailing has hand up my thigh in the enclosed, dark space that was making me extremely claustrophobic . . .and hot._

"_You don't know what you are doing." my voice was shaky, flat. _

"_I know exactly what I am doing," he pressed his erection harder against me; I bit back a moan. "I am waiting for you to decide what you would like to do."_

"_I have shown gratitude to you for saving me."_

"_Which has been accepted; however, my interest no longer resides in embellished gratitude, Isadora. I desire something more intimate."_

"_I will do no such thing with you." I searched for his eyes in the darkness, "Unless by force, even then I would not participate." I added. Gannicus stopped his motions at my words._

"_I have no intention on taking you by force, there is no pleasure in that." he replied._

"_Then I suggest you release me, Gannicus."_

_There was a brief pause before anything happened. He did not say anything that would hint at releasing me, so I waited to see what he would do. His grasp on me loosened, he could tell, without even seeing my face, that a wave of relief washed over me. Gannicus leaned back slightly, creating a very minor distance between us as he still held me. _

"_I do desire you, Isadora. In time you will feel the same for me." silence filled the confined space. It was tense and awkward as we stood there, not saying anything, not being able to see each other, his hands still on me and body pressed lightly against mine. It felt like a lifetime. Finally Gannicus released me, setting me back on the ground and stepped backward until he hit the wall behind him. I hesitated a moment just before I left, turning back to look at him once I exited the space, only to be unable to see his face. His words shook me, a part of me believing that I would want him, crave the feel of his hands, his voice, his hard body, and that is what frightened me more than anything else. I knew that men were capable of anything, especially a man with nothing to lose._

I was surprised at how well Gannicus could act. He spoke to the Magistrate with such fervor and enthusiasm that I almost doubted that he was disappointment and calm just moments ago. Ilithyia and Marcellus were listening intently to the Magistrate while I was idly picking at my food and gazing off into the empty air. Sometimes I wished I could be air: weightless, free. Then again, there was an important role of air: even thought it was weightless and free it played a vital part to the survival of others, keeping them alive. I did not want to be the reason for keeping someone or anything alive. I destroyed the wish and thought of what else I would like to be; However, nothing came to mind, for at the end of the day everything in the world played a vital role in some way or another.

My hand was suddenly shaken and I looked to see that everyone was staring at me. I looked at me hand, which was covered by Ilithyias' who seemed somewhat concerned but not entirely.

"It seems someone has been daydreaming." the Magistrate smiled at me.

"Apologies." I replied. "Much has been weighing my mind."

"Then distraction would be much approved then?" Marcellus asked, somewhat grinning.

"Of course." the Magistrate chimed. "We have received invitation from the Lanistas participating in the Championship games to observe the first day of training of the gladiators and preparations."

"Batiatus has also invited us for a private viewing." Marcellus added. "Of course none will be killed; nonetheless, it is far better than staying in my villa till night fall."

"Agreed." said Ilithyia. "Besides, it has been very long since Isadora and I last partook in the games. We are interested to see what all of Rome has to offer." she smiled. "What do you think, Isadora?" Ilithyia asked me. Everyone looked at me expectantly, save Gannicus. Batiatus wanted us to see him . . .to see his gladiators . . .to see Spartacus. Opportunity presented itself for me to see him.

"Of course," I smiled, "such a chance can not be wasted, we must take advantage."

"Fantastic!" the Magistrate clasped his hands together. "I will give you ladies time to freshen up, while Marcellus, Gannicus, and I resume conversations that are not meant for the ears of women." he gestured for the servants to pull our seats out and Ilithyia and I proceeded up stairs to freshen up.

We were going to see Batitaus, but I was going to see Spartacus. It had been so long since I last saw him, saw his wonderful eyes, heard his rustic voice. By going to the training I would be satisfied with just seeing his face from a distance, but I knew that if I got close to him, which I also knew was inevitable, just seeing his face wouldn't be enough. I needed to be alone with him, without prying eyes, not having to speak in whispers. If the Gods truly cared for me, even in the slightest bit, they would pave a way for Spartacus and I to be alone, even it was for just two minutes.

* * *

GANNICUS POV:

"So, Gannicus," the Magistrate began as he poured himself a glass of very pungent wine. "I must ask, since I find my curiosity on the matter simply insatiable."

"Ask." I gave him my approval, letting everything be in the open.

"Since the display of your , heroism the other day with Isadora," the Magistrate looked at the rim of his cup and traced the padding of his index finger hard against it, "I have not heard word of a wife wondering of your whereabouts, or women flocking toward you, screaming for your attention."

"I agreed, uncle." Marcellus added. "I find it odd that he is not surrounded by women."

I covered my mouth to cover the grin that was becoming larger by the second as they spoke. Marcellus, may have been rich, but he was an idiot. He had no idea that just moments ago I had captured and held his future wife in a very provocative manner; I was in the process of convincing the only woman I needed that she needed me.

"Do I present myself that way?" I asked out of curiosity.

"Apparently you haven't been paying attention to the female servants." the Magistrate laughed lightly with a smile while drinking his wine. "All I here is chatter of you, and see them ogling at you from a distance. They are quite inflamed by your presence"

I easily hid my grin, not because it mattered to me, but because I could not get Isadora to become "inflamed" by me like the servants were. It was disappointing and underwhelming. But it also proved that she was not easily beguiled, which I enjoyed very much. I meant that once she was mine she would not be easily swayed by the charms of another man.

"Odd, I haven't noticed." I replied in complete seriousness.

"He's very humble." Marcellus smiled at his uncle.

"A trait you could learn from him." the Magistrate grimaced, causing Marcellus to wish he had never said it. It was obvious that the Magistrate had high expectations for his nephew, those of which he failed to meet. "Nonetheless, I must ask if there is a woman of interest? Perhaps one that has struck your fancy?"

I nodded my head slowly, looking at the ground. "There is." I replied simply.

"Is this woman mute?" the Magistrate asked.

"No." I answered.

"Well then speak her name!" he boasted with merriment.

"If you do not mind Magistrate, I would much rather not. She is a very . . .delicate woman."

"She's a prude." Marcellus corrected with a chuckle. The Magistrate responded with an intense glare that I felt was strictly dedicated to him whenever it surfaced, and the chuckling abruptly stopped.

"That is understandable, my boy." the Magistrate said with a kind smile. "You must first gain a woman's trust if you wish to woo her. It is reassuring to know this woman has some sense; compared to others I have met." he gave Marcellus a more mitigated glare this time, causing his nephew to sink into his chair with annoyance. It seemed to me that the Uncle and Nephew had a delicate and constantly scrutinizing relationship, especially on the Uncles behalf. I felt bad for Marcellus, having to live up to his Uncles and Fathers expectations; it was a lot of pressure on a boy a few years younger than me.

"Isadora has some sense." Marcellus said abruptly. The Magistrate swallowed the wine he had been drinking and tipped his empty cup towards Marcellus with a grin.

"Indeed she does."

The remorse I once had for Marcellus was gone. I did not feel bad for the kid, rather superior; I knew Isadora would never marry him, she told me herself, she would try with all her might to resist him and his schemes; nonetheless, his efforts would be futile. Which would leave her wide open for me.

_Fantastic._

* * *

IPOV:

I collected my hair in my hands and brought it over my shoulder, feeling unbelievably hot. The sun was beaming into the room, burning up my skin; it was never like that in Capua. I glanced over my shoulder toward Ilithyia, who was sitting on a sofa while her hair was being brushed out. I grabbed the white wash cloth in front of me and dipped it into the cold bowl of water a servant had brought, soaking the cloth before placing it at the nape of my neck.

"Jupiter's light, that is amazing." I moaned in satisfaction, feeling the cold water cool my skin and drip down my back.

"I don't understand why you don't have a servant do it." Ilithyia wondered.

"I'd much rather do things myself." I replied.

"That is fine, a woman does need to be independent." there was an awkward silence that I didn't really pay attention to, that was until I realized Ilithyia wasn't finished speaking. "Isadora?"

"Yes?"

"Are you attracted to Gannicus?" she asked.

"I beg your pardon?" I scuffed, for some reason it seemed like an insult since I was with Spartacus, but Ilithyia didn't know that. And she never would.

"Do you want to fuck Gannicus?" she asked bluntly.

"Why would you assume that?"

"I've seen the way he looks at you . . .the way he touches you . . ." Ilithyia added.

"Well your eyes have deceived you." Ilithyia brushed the servant away and stood up, walking towards me.

"It is fine if you want to fuck Gannicus, he is a very attractive man." the snake grinned, trailing the tips of her fingers down my exposed shoulders. "And he would be a fool to not want to fuck you."

"He saved my life, Ilithyia." I chastised.

"And you have paid him back in kind; however, I cannot help but notice a void has built since he saved you. Marcellus and I no longer see you or Gannicus. This does not bother the Magistrate since he is so beguiled by Gannicus, but I have noticed."

"Gannicus and I have nothing to do with you."

"So you do want to fuck him?" she teased, "Or have you already?" her hand traced my collar bone then back up my neck. I slapped her hand away roughly.

"Stop touching me. I am not a doll you can treat how every pleases you." I snapped.

"Leave Gannicus alone, Isadora." the true Ilithyia I knew finally emerged, baring her fangs and venom, her face becoming hard matching her acrimonious tone. "He is camel shit that flies and maggots feed from." Her tone and face softened suddenly, the anger in her eyes diminishing and replaced the a faint glamour. Ilithyia ran her fingers softly through my hair, ghosting over my collar bone, and pulled it so it fell behind my shoulders again. "Marcellus is going to be part of the Senate, and it is obvious that he admires you. Tease him, be kind to him, show him what he can have, the future he can have." she smiled lightly. She gently pressed her lips against mine, elongating the moment by carefully capturing my bottom lip between her teeth and pulling lightly.

"Don't keep us waiting too long." Ilithyia said before leaving the room and heading down the stairs.

* * *

MPOV:

I watched Gannicus intently, analyzing his mannerisms and wondering why my uncle was so infatuated with him. Yes, he did save Isadora from being trampled by a horse and for that I was thankful, but why was he still around? There was nothing keeping him there, aside from my uncles constant insistency, so why did he continue to stay? I assessed him as he talked to my uncle; it was very obvious that he was attractive, more so than most, and his figure was very muscular in comparison to my lean and toned figure. Gannicus did have a silent charm about him that I found rather irritating, he could get what he meant across with only a few words, and was very meticulous about his word choice as well. He did not like being misinterpreted I gathered . . .as well as taken advantage of. I noticed then whenever we offered him something Gannicus was always hesitant to accept. Perhaps he did not like feeling like a charity case, which was understandable.

I was becoming aggravated with how much I came to understand Gannicus instead of vehemently hating him. I still hated him, since he was spend far more time with Isadora than I was, but I understood him. My uncle told me to go check on Isadora and Ilithyia since they were taking a while, so I did, leaving Gannicus and my uncle alone. I went up the stairs, down the hall, and to the first threshold on my right. It was painfully bright as light flooded out of the room and into the hall, so I braced myself for the blinding light that was about to come.

"Do you want to fuck Gannicus?" I stopped just as I was about to step inside and retreated back around the threshold, my back pressed against the wall. Why would Ilithyia ask Isadora that question? After all Ilithyia was the one that insisted I met the girl and marry her, was she doubting my ability to win Isadora over, and resorting to more drastic measures? Gannicus of all people?

"Why would you assume that?" I listened more intently at the sound of Isadoras' voice.

"I've seen the way he looks at you . . .the way he touches you." Ilithyia replied. As she said that I replayed the last few days in my mind. Gannicus had been looking at Isadora strangely, with a wandering gaze it seemed, and when he did touch her, it was always soft or a gentle graze of the arm. That was never a unconscious gesture for a man, it was always deliberate, I knew because I had done it to countless women before. My lips pressed into a fine line as a realized Gannicus had been staying for Isadora the entire time, so he could make his move, so he could brand her as his.

"Well your eyes have deceived you." Isadora said. Her response made me wonder if she was aware of Gannicus' intentions, or if she was responding to him . . .if they had done something. I heard light footsteps going across the room and braced myself to leave.

"It is fine if you want to fuck Gannicus, he is a very attractive man, and he would be a fool to not want to fuck you." I could hear Ilithyia smiling as she spoke, the cunt. She was trying to get Isadora with Gannicus. In her mind, things were not moving along quickly between Isadora and I, and Gannicus was in such good graces with my uncle that it was possible he could come up in society, either way it would be win-win for Ilithyia since all she wanted for Isadora was for her to be married to a prestigious, wealthy, handsome man. My face became hot and red, I couldn't listen to anymore. I went back down the hall, and just before going down the stairs I collected myself and calmed my anger, even though my face was still very hot. I put on my signature fake smile and went down the stairs.

"They'll be just a moment." I said to my uncle, who looked at me expectantly. He nodded and continued his conversation with Gannicus, who looked at me from the corner of his eye and grinned faintly, so faintly it was barely noticeable. Little did he know that it would be me grinning soon.

**A/N: I know it has been a super long time since I last updated, it was just difficult for me to find inspiration, but I really enjoyed writing this chapter. I am going to try to get them out every few weeks, my time is really tight so I spend most of it working and write when I can. A lot of you have been dying for some Isadora/Spartacus interaction, and there will definitely be some of that from this point on. So expect it in the next chapter. I love reviews, they are awesome and I would love feedback because I really like knowing what you guys do or don't like specifically. So thanks, and review at your leisure. **


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